


Drag Up Your Life

by roe87



Series: Shrunkyclunks au's [3]
Category: Avengers (Comics), Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Character, Asexual Steve Rogers, Avengers Tower, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Chubby bucky barnes, Drag Queens, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gay Bucky Barnes, Happy Ending, House Cleaner Bucky, House Cleaning, Humor, Implied Bottom Bucky Barnes, Lonely Steve Rogers, M/M, Meet-Cute, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Friendship, Sassy Bucky Barnes, Sassy Steve Rogers, Shrunkyclunks, Shy Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, drag queen Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2020-01-04 18:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18349031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roe87/pseuds/roe87
Summary: After leaving SHIELD, Captain America moves back to New York to work with The Avengers.Steve Rogers, meanwhile, has his first taste of downtime since waking up from the ice, and he's treading water.Then he meets Bucky, the cute guy who cleans for him and performs as a drag queen on the side.Steve has an instant crush, but he doesn't quite know how to navigate dating in this age. Luckily for him, Bucky takes him under his (glittery) wing.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aromo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aromo/gifts).



> Hello!  
> I wanted to write Ace (Asexual) Steve for a while now, and I'm so excited to share this with you!
> 
> There is no one way to be Asexual, because it is a spectrum. Also, sex and romance are two different things, and it's entirely valid to be ace yet still seek a romantic relationship. That is how Steve feels in this au: Asexual, and Biromantic or Panromantic.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story.
> 
> Title from the song by RuPaul.
> 
> ~
> 
> Heads up that OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) is referenced in Chapter One, with a focus on cleaning.  
> Steve has OCD but isn't very aware of it yet, and this leads into why he ends up hiring a cleaner in the first place as he finds keeping his apartment clean has become too time consuming to deal with.
> 
> If this is potentially a triggering topic for you, I suggest skipping ahead to Chapter Two. Thanks!
> 
> ~

 

 

When Steve joined the Army, he cleaned his own stuff and polished his own boots, same as any other Private in Basic.

When Steve joined up with the U.S.O. show, he still polished his own boots and he made damn sure he washed his own tights. And when he was Captain America, Steve polished his own boots and kept his kit clean, just like the other guys.

In fact, cleaning gave Steve a reprieve from his responsibilities, some much needed downtime for his brain where he could switch off and repeat the same simple movements from muscle memory. Washing his kit or polishing a boot, sitting in companionable quiet with the Howling Commandos, and winding down.

But when Steve came out of the ice and into modern New York City, things weren't the same anymore.

They didn't even use the same boot polish or wear the same boots, and those little things alone were hard to get used to.

Some things had changed for the better: Steve instantly fell in love with modern washing machines and dryers. He'd always been neat and tidy with his laundry and how he organised his kit, even back then. Some of the guys had teased him for it over the years, but Steve had never felt conscious about his habits until he met The Avengers.

After the battle for New York, Steve caught Clint and Natasha giving him side-eye as he cleaned his shield, and Tony outright pointed and laughed at how Steve lined up his boots and balled up his socks.

"Ignore him, Steve," Natasha had told him. "You do you."

Steve had smiled weakly, and tried to ignore it.

Shortly afterwards he started working with Fury and SHIELD, so Steve didn't have to see Tony all that much. He moved to D.C., and had a brand new apartment all to himself where he could line up his boots, hang his own laundry, and organise things to his heart's content.

Well.

Kind of.

With the stress of adjusting to everything, and working for SHIELD, Steve found he relied on cleaning as a coping strategy a bit too much. If he started cleaning one thing, he found himself slipping into the zone and would clean his entire apartment in one go, shutting himself away for days and not answering his phone.

It became a problem.

Then he fell out with SHIELD anyway, moved back to New York and signed up to work with The Avengers, along with Natasha, Sam, Clint, Maria, and also Fury who was off the grid for now.

Tony offered them all apartments in his newly adapted tower, but Steve wanted his own place. He bought a new apartment, something nice but modest, and moved what was left of his stuff in.

And that was when Steve decided he couldn't deal with the cleaning anymore. He just couldn't: he was too busy, and The Avengers couldn't afford to lose Cap for days with no communication because Steve had decided to take a toothbrush to his bathroom tiles.

The solution was simple, in theory. Steve would hire a cleaner.

He opened Google to get some ideas, but before he could even type in the words he closed the tab down through the shame of it all.

Honestly, what would his ma say.

Steve paced his kitchen trying to think. They'd been so poor, barely scraping together enough for food, and now here he was about to hire a cleaner because he couldn't do the job himself.

Steve sighed. He had to face facts: he couldn't devote his time to being an Avenger _and_ doing the cleaning. He had to cut one out, and he wasn't about to put down the mantle of Captain America yet.

Of course, if he just went and lived in Tony's tower, all of this would be done for him. But...

No.

Steve wanted to have control.

And for the first time in his life, he had the means to do it. His ma would tell him to be practical, he was sure of it.

He sat himself back down at his laptop and started Googling for tips on how to be a modern bachelor in New York. He made a list and wrote down names of companies or ideas he liked the sound of.

All Steve needed doing was the general cleaning of his apartment. He was comfortable doing his own civilian laundry at home, and Stark Industries took care of their Avengers suits.

He'd have to remember to hide his shield in his closet, though.

Steve stumbled upon some interesting articles when he'd gone down another Google rabbit hole, and read about cleaning services that boasted celebrity clientele without revealing any secrets. Steve didn't consider himself a celebrity like a movie star or anything like that, but he figured having that level of confidentiality from a service that'd be in his home would only be beneficial.

Now he just had to pick one, and after browsing Google searches Steve saw an ad that jumped out at him: Winnie's Home Cleaning Service.

Steve read the phrases 'family business', and 'environmentally friendly products', and he was curious enough to click on their website.

The homepage that greeted him was done up to look like ads Steve was used to, showing a jolly and smartly dressed home-maker with her hair in rolls, batwing glasses, red lipstick on and a bright smile. She wore a check dress and white apron, with a pink feather duster in hand.

Steve read through the website, smiling at the testimonials from customers saying how much they loved Winnie and her employees.

A family business, apparently.

Steve opened a new tab and Googled the company, doing a quick check. There was nothing but glowing praise, and upon further inspection Steve discovered that a brother of Winnie was in fact an A list movie star. No one Steve had heard of, but that probably explained how the cleaning company had been hired by celebrity clients.

Steve went back to the website, and filled in an inquiry form.

 

 

Later that day, Steve got a call on his burner phone.

He was half expecting it to be the cleaning company, because he hadn't given this number out to anyone else.

He answered the call with a cautious, "Hello?"

"Hello, this is Winnie Barnes!" greeted a jolly-sounding voice. "Is this Steve?"

"Yes, speaking. Thank you for calling me."

"Oh, no problem!" she replied, New York accent thick. "Did you want to get an estimate for cleaning your home?"

"Yeah, that'd be great," Steve said. "It won't be anything, like, uh, complicated. Just the basics, really."

"Well, I always say," Winnie said brightly, "a clean home is a happy home!"

Steve smiled. "I hope so."

"Oh, don't you worry, Steve, we'll see to that," Winnie said. "Now, tell me about your home."

Steve ended up having a twenty minute phone conversation with Winnie, and by the end of it felt like he was talking to someone he'd known for years.

Winnie was just so nice, like a sweet mom.

After Steve had described his apartment to her, she'd explained the cleaning service to him and the products the company used, all simple and either home-made, or environmentally friendly. The strongest product they used was some bleach on the toilets, otherwise it was baking soda, vinegar, and fresh lemon juice.

Steve's heart ached for simple things, and he found himself agreeing to a cleaning appointment next week.

It'd be two to three hours long, and Steve paid a holding deposit via secure transfer. Winnie explained she didn't do cleaning calls herself because she had a bad knee, but all her employees were family, and she'd book in her daughter, Becca.

Steve thanked Winnie at the end of the call, and marked the cleaning appointment into his digital calendar.

It was barely four days away.

Now Steve had to decide how much cleaning he should do in preparation prior to a cleaner arriving.

 

~

 

The day before his cleaning appointment, Steve was dressed up as Cap and fighting A.I.M. robots with The Avengers.

It was messy, and tiring. Steve's suit was pretty trashed.

After the battle and initial cleanup before the Stark Relief Foundation took over for them, The Avengers flew back to the tower and Steve was able to take off his ruined suit and get into a hot shower.

He was busy decompressing silently under the warm spray when Clint yelled over the stall, "Y'alright in there, Cap?"

Steve blinked a few times to bring himself back to the present moment.

"Yeah," he called, trying to inject life into his voice. "Just enjoying the water."

"Oh, yeah," Clint laughed, "rich people got amazing water pressure."

"That they do!" Sam's voice joined in.

Steve finished off his shower and went to towel himself dry. He'd have to decompress later, have a bath when he got home.

Once he was dressed in civvies, he opened up his locker and checked his personal phone, then his burner. There was a voicemail on the burner, so Steve selected the option to listen to it, as Sam and Clint's voices filtered in from their stalls. Apparently Clint had lost his soap, and Steve tried to tune him out as the voicemail started up.

It was Winnie, sounding a little harried as she explained that her daughter, Becca, had to take her own kid to a doctor's appointment tomorrow, and would it be okay if she sent another of her family to Steve's cleaning appointment instead.

Steve deleted the voicemail when it ended, and fired off a text to Winnie's number, as it was a cell phone number anyway.

He assured her it was fine, and sent his best wishes to Becca and her child.

There was something endearing about a family service, Steve decided. He was now privy to these private details that only family should know about, yet Winnie was trusting him with it.

He must've been smiling to himself when Sam found him, now dressed in his sweats.

"What's got you grinning?" Sam asked with a smile.

Steve smiled back. "Nothing. Did Barton find his soap?"

"No, he's just using shampoo all over," Sam laughed. "You wanna get some food? I'm  hungry."

"Yeah." Steve nodded, and closed up his locker. "That'd be great."

"Excuse me!" Clint yelled, still in the shower. "I'm hungry too."

"Then hurry up!" Sam called back.

 

After a lot of food and some much needed chill out time with Sam, Nat and Clint, Steve headed home and ran himself a big bubble bath.

He'd had a reply from Winnie, thanking him and promising his appointment tomorrow would be on time.

She hadn't said who she was sending in Becca's place, but perhaps she didn't know yet.

Steve wondered how big their family was. He'd always wondered what having a big family was like, with lots of siblings, or cousins. People to grow up with, and more elders around like aunts and uncles.

It'd been just him and his mom for as long as Steve could remember, as his dad had died before he was born. His mom had friends, close friends, and some neighbors that Steve knew growing up, but...

Sometimes they weren't always around, and Steve had always wanted something more permanent. People he knew would be there for him.

He hoped that The Avengers could get there some day.

 

The next morning Steve was rota'd off, barring any national emergencies, and he was up bright and early to tidy his apartment.

He scrubbed down his bath and toilet, then he had a shower and used the time in the shower to scrub the tiles too.

He knew he was being ridiculous, but he felt nervous at the thought of a stranger coming in and seeing his home.

After his shower, Steve dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and started to put away his laundry. He got a phone call from Winnie, and Steve accepted the call hoping she wasn't about to say his appointment was cancelled.

"Hey, Winnie."

"Steve!" she greeted. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, how are you?" he replied. "Is all well?"

"Oh, sure!" Winnie said, sounding only a little harried this time. "I'm so sorry, Steve, I've tried to get you one of my girls but they're all tied up!"

Steve sagged a little, from relief or disappointment, he wasn't sure.

But then Winnie went on, "I can send you my son, James?"

Steve blinked in surprise.

"I was just calling to make sure you don't mind having another man in the house?" Winnie asked.

Steve wasn't sure what to say, nervous that she'd figured him out from a couple phone calls and _knew_ what his preferences were.

Then he calmed down and figured that couldn't possibly be the case. He forced himself to say, in as normal a voice he could muster, "I don't mind at all."

"Oh, thank you, Steve!" Winnie sounded delighted. "He's a hard worker, he'll do a good job for you."

"I'm sure he will," Steve found himself saying. "Shall I expect him at the same time?"

"Same time," Winnie confirmed. "I've told him to give you an introductory discount off the initial estimate too. For all the trouble."

"Oh, that's not necessary," Steve tried, but Winnie wouldn't hear it.

"No, I insist!" she said. "I'll send him your address now, and he'll be along at one PM as promised."

"Okay." Steve smiled. "Thanks, Winnie."

"My pleasure, Steve. Have a good day, now!"

"You, too. 'Bye, Winnie."

When the call was done, Steve deliberated a moment before rushing back to the bedroom and changing his jeans and t-shirt for a slightly nicer pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

He also fiddled with his hair and put on a bit of cologne.

There was still two hours to kill, so Steve put the television on for some background noise, and puttered about the apartment tidying things up to make it easier to clean.

Just before one PM, his apartment buzzer sounded, and Steve went over to the intercom.

The image onscreen showed a young man at his front door downstairs, carrying a couple bags and facing slightly away from the camera. He had dark hair, and that was about all Steve could see of him.

"Hello?" Steve said into the intercom.

"Hi, I'm James from Winnie's cleaning," the man said.

"C'mon up," Steve replied, and buzzed him in.

He'd have to use the elevator, and Steve took a moment to tidy away some things from the kitchen sideboards in a last minute bid to make a good impression.

When the knock came at his apartment door, Steve strode over to open it and came face to face with a very handsome man, with bright grey eyes and a friendly smile.

"Hey!" he greeted. "I'm James, but only Winnie calls me that so please call me Bucky."

Steve nodded in silence, completely wrong-footed, but managed to get himself together and hold the door open for him.

"Please, come on in."

 

 

 

 


	2. Two

 

Steve was in trouble.

He was thoroughly useless at communicating with anyone cute, and Bucky was _cute_.

He was also fascinating to Steve in that way a lot of people in this time were because of the way they dressed: it was new to Steve. Bucky seemed polite, even a little demure. He toed his sneakers off by the door and smiled shyly at Steve as he set down his bags.

Bucky had long dark hair tied up on top of his head, with little wisps escaping. Steve wasn't used to men with long hair and he found it hard to look away.

"Do you mind showing me round your place?" Bucky asked, tucking an errant lock of hair behind his ear. "Just tell me what you'd like cleaned, and I'll give you the estimate. Also, Winnie's giving you an extra hour today."

"Oh, that's not necessary," Steve tried, but Bucky held up his hands and flashed a smile.

"Let's not argue with my mom. She's a force of nature."

"Alright." Steve smiled back. "Then, let me show you round."

He gave Bucky a quick tour of his apartment, and tried not to cringe at a couple things he hadn't cleared away yet.

"Sorry about the mess," he mumbled, when they were in his bedroom.

"You kidding?" Bucky replied. "This is one of the cleanest apartments I've ever seen."

Steve relaxed minutely. "Thanks."

"If it's always this clean," Bucky went on, "I can focus on deep cleaning instead? Bathroom, kitchen, scrub things down. Whatever you want."

"Um, yeah." Steve felt his cheeks get warm, feeling embarrassed. "I just... I don't have time to do it all anymore. Not to the standard I'm happy with."

"That's where we come in!" Bucky smiled brightly. "This is one job we can take off your hands."

Steve smiled back. "Thank you."

 

Bucky got to work, starting in the bathroom while Steve sort of lurked in the doorway.

He _tried_ not to lurk, but having someone in his apartment made him nervous. Not in a bad way, because Bucky clearly wasn't a threat and he was really very nice.

Steve did feel nervous, though.

He wanted to watch, especially when Bucky snapped on bright pink rubber gloves and leaned over the bath. He had on soft running pants turned up to the knees, and a loose fit t-shirt. Bucky wasn't built like most of the guys Steve knew, slim and muscled: he was soft around the middle, and when he smiled he had a little double chin on his clean-shaven face.

Steve tried not to look so much, but he noticed these things.

In a bid to mind his own business, Steve left the bathroom and sat himself down in the lounge. He got out his phone to play some Sudoku, and tried not to think about Bucky in his bathtub right now.

 

Bucky took his time with the cleaning, and Steve figured he had to know what he was doing. When he exited the bathroom, carrying his cleaning bags with him, he said to Steve, "I thought I'll do the kitchen next?"

"Yeah, sure." Steve got up and followed Bucky into the kitchen area. He glanced around at the clean worktops and hoped they was passable.

Bucky set down his bags and crouched by the oven. He opened it up and peered inside, then looked around at Steve.

"New oven, huh?"

"Um, yeah," Steve fibbed.

"Okay." Bucky closed the oven again. "I guess I'll clean the sink area and wipe down the worktops. Do you want me to wash the floor too?"

"Um. Okay?"

"It's up to you," Bucky told him, looking up at Steve from his crouched position.

Steve nodded quickly, feeling nervous again. "Okay. Sure. I'll just..." He gestured with his hand. "Get out of your way."

Bucky smiled at him, and Steve made a fast exit from the kitchen.

 

By the end of the three hours, Bucky had worked his way around Steve's apartment, with Steve using tactical manoeuvres to avoid him as much as possible.

The last thing Steve wanted to do was hover over someone as they tried to do their job, even though every time they crossed paths Bucky would smile at him in a friendly way, and make small talk.

Steve had gotten better at small talk, but today he sucked at it. He really hoped Bucky didn't think he was being rude.

When it came time to say goodbye and settle the bill, Bucky wrote out a receipt on a card that said _Winnie's_ at the top, with an estimate for future cleaning jobs. He asked Steve if he wanted to pay cash or card.

"I don't mind," Steve replied, looking down at Bucky's feet. There was a little tattoo on his bare ankle: a couple of stars with a rainbow. Steve wanted to ask what it was for, but he didn't want to be rude.

"It's totally up to you," Bucky said, and got out a small electronic device from his pocket. "You can pay card on this if you want? Cash is fine too."

Steve figured everyone liked cash, so he paid in cash.

Then Bucky slipped his shoes back on, picked up his bags and gave Steve one last smile.

"Nice to meet you, Steve," he said. "If you need to ask us anything, just speak to Winnie. She'll be happy to take your call."

Steve smiled back. "I will. Thank you, Bucky."

"My pleasure." Bucky opened the door and left, leaving Steve alone in his apartment.

Well.

That hadn't been what he'd expected.

Now he was alone, Steve wandered through his rooms that were now sparkling clean and smelling mildly of different fragrances. There was a hint of lavender in the bedroom, but the real lemon juice in the bathroom and kitchen was Steve's favorite.

And everything was so clean, too. Bucky had done a good job: Steve had no complaints.

A few hours later, he called Winnie. She asked him if he was happy with his service.

"Yes, very," Steve replied.

Winnie seemed thrilled, though she did offer to switch him back to a different cleaner if Steve preferred not having a man do the job. Steve assured her that Bucky was fine, and asked Winnie to set him up a regular appointment. She seemed thrilled with that, too.

Steve thanked her and ended the call.

Then, as the realisation of what he'd just committed to sunk in, he wondered if he really had the time to clean his own apartment before each cleaning appointment.

 

The next day, Steve met Sam in the tower's gym for training.

"Can I ask you something?" he said quietly, as they taped up their hands in the locker room.

"Sure, man." Sam sat down next to him.

Steve inhaled, and wanted to speak but found he couldn't get the words out. He felt embarrassed, but Sam's presence was reassuring. Steve shook his head at himself. "I feel kinda stupid."

"What's new," Sam quipped, making Steve chuckle. "What's the problem?"

"Is it bad that I've hired a cleaner?" Steve blurted out.

"Bad?" Sam repeated. "Bad, how?"

Steve shrugged. "I guess it's just not something I'm used to."

"Okay," Sam said. "What sort of company is it? If you don't mind me asking."

"A small family business," Steve said.

"So they're not a big corporation like Stark Industries?" Sam clarified.

"No, definitely not," Steve said. "It's run by a nice lady, and it seems like her kids do all the cleaning jobs."

"So, an independent business," Sam said, nodding. "They need patronage."

"I guess so," Steve replied.

And thinking of it that way, Steve realised that hiring people who needed work was helping them too.

"Okay, I feel a bit better now," he admitted. "Sorry. I got stuck inside my own head."

"Man, we all do that," Sam said.

"How about you?" Steve asked him. "Are things working out living with your cousins?"

Sam tilted his head. "It's alright. For now." He laughed. "Man, every time I come here to the tower, I'm tempted to take one of those apartments Tony keeps offering."

"Yeah." Steve smiled at his friend. "Why don't you?"

"Maybe. I'm cool seeing my family for now, you know?" Sam said. "I didn't realise I missed them so much."

"Yeah," Steve agreed, thinking of his mom. "I get that."

"Oh, hey!" Clint called out, breezing into the locker room. "Ready for your training, young Padawans?"

Sam snorted at that, as Clint opened his locker and was faced with an avalanche of gym clothes, shoes, and a quiver of arrows falling on top of him. Sam nudged Steve and murmured, "Now there's someone who needs a cleaner."

Steve grinned, and immediately thought of Bucky and his bright smile.

Only five more days until Steve saw him again.

 

 

 

 


	3. Three

 

 

Bucky started coming weekly to clean Steve's apartment, usually on the same day and sometimes it moved around depending on Steve's schedule or Bucky's.

Bucky had given Steve his phone number so they could text or call and change the time if he needed to. Sometimes Bucky would text Steve if he was caught in traffic and running a little late.

It was nice, Steve thought, having someone who wasn't an Avenger to interact with regularly.

Steve's team mates were all great, but the problem with work friends was they'd end up talking about work. It was hard not to, they were always on.

Sometimes Steve needed to step back from being Captain America, from being a leader, and just be himself.

Whoever that guy was.

So he looked forward to seeing Bucky, and Bucky's happy smiles.

Steve had looked up the cleaning service website again on his phone just to look at the photos of Winnie on there (he presumed it was Winnie, anyway) smiling brightly. Steve could definitely see a family resemblance, so he was pretty sure it was Bucky's mother.

Winnie looked immaculately dressed in the photos, but soft and cuddly like a friendly mom. Bucky too was soft around the edges and had the same warm smile. He was polite and sweet, and chatted easily with Steve but never overstepped his bounds.

Steve couldn't deny he was fond of Bucky, and now he had worked through his initial awkwardness with someone new, he found Bucky very easy to talk to and to be around.

Steve wasn't sure if he had a crush on Bucky or just enjoyed his company. He'd always struggled with figuring out those types of feelings.

Still, it was fine.

Steve enjoyed the company each week, if only for two or three hours. It felt nice and domestic, in a way he hadn't experienced before. He wondered if this was what having a room-mate would be like, and if he'd ever be able to drop his guard enough to live with someone now.

To have gone from being in the Army and living in other guy's pockets almost every day, with the closeness and the camaraderie... to waking up years later and having to figure himself out all over again, it was a lot to get used to.

 

After a few weeks of cleaning Steve's apartment, and Bucky was always telling him how tidy and spotless his place was, one day Bucky just came out and said, "Steve, do you even _use_ your oven?"

"Uh," Steve replied.

"Hah, I knew it," Bucky said with a chuckle.

"I'm more of a cook on the stove kinda guy," Steve admitted.

"What, no take-out?" Bucky threw a cheeky grin over his shoulder.

Steve smiled guiltily. "That, too."

"No judgement from me," Bucky said, as he started to clean the top part of the oven. "I can't even cook toast."

Steve smiled again, and willed himself not to blush. "Um. Do you want coffee?" he offered, remembering why he'd loitered in the first place.

And it wasn't to just be near Bucky.

Nope.

"I'm good, but thanks," Bucky told him.

Steve nodded, and poured himself a cup. He always offered, and Bucky always politely refused. He had bottled water with him in his bags, usually.

"Busy today?" Steve asked.

"Not too much," Bucky replied, pausing his cleaning to reach up and adjust his hair. Some of it had slipped free of the tie, so Bucky re-tied it.

Steve watched, he couldn't help it. Bucky's hair was probably shoulder length, wavy and dark brown. His arms were thick and toned, with a little wobble of soft skin on the underarms.

Steve liked seeing softness on another man: the long hair, the curves of Bucky's body in his semi-tight clothes. It was nice.

Steve couldn't figure out if he was merely curious at new-to-him things, or if he did in fact have a crush.

Not that he would ever act on it. Bucky was at work, and Steve would never want to put anyone in the position of trying to please an employer. No, he'd keep things professional.

 

One time, Steve noticed a flash of something catch the light on Bucky's cheek. It caused him to look closer, and Bucky caught him looking.

"What?" Bucky asked, his hand coming up to touch his mouth. "Is there mustard on my chin? I ate a corndog on my way here."

"No, it's..." Steve felt embarrassed for noticing now. "Just something shiny on your cheek."

Bucky's eyes widened briefly, then he smiled and waved his hands. "Oh, it's glitter. It's just so hard to get off, you know?"

"Um," Steve said, because he had no idea.

"I'll wipe it off in the bathroom."

"Uh, yes, sure." Steve nodded, watching as Bucky grabbed his bag of cleaning supplies and hurried away.

Steve tried to mind his own business for the rest of Bucky's visit, and occupied himself with his laptop in the lounge.

He Googled, _who wears glitter?_ Then he browsed the results, most of which were tips for wearing glitter as make-up, some results debating if glitter was toxic, and other results with pictures of rainbows.

Steve clicked on a rainbow picture post, which brought him to a page with _Gay!_ in the title.

Steve bookmarked the tab, and closed his laptop. He'd look at it later, when he was on his own. Steve had so much to catch up on, and he was constantly checking for anything with hidden meanings to it.

Sometimes it was too much to take in, and he wished he could just ask somebody.

When he was on his own, Steve checked the same website and looked at pictures of men with glittery rainbows painted on their skin. They looked happy. 

He'd read about the huge Pride parades in New York, and now he had the time to research it he fell down another Google rabbit hole reading up on the history of that.

Steve felt equal parts excited and nervous, wishing he could see these things for himself.

The next Pride parade wasn't for a few months. That'd give him time to think about it and prepare a disguise.

For the first time since waking up in this strange new future, Steve was excited to be in New York again.

This year, he was going to make it count.

 

 

The next week during his cleaning appointment, Steve got a call from Maria calling him in, which really sucked.

A car was on its way to his apartment, and Steve would have to cut his appointment short, or he could leave Bucky to finish up on his own.

Either way, he'd have to tell him.

Bucky was in the bathroom, and Steve knocked on the door.

No answer.

"Bucky?" Steve knocked again.

He probably had his earbuds in, Steve thought. Bucky often listened to music when he did the cleaning, and Steve was happy to let him. But today he needed to interrupt.

Steve opened the door and poked his head in. "Sorry," he started, "but I..." He trailed off as he caught Bucky posing in front of the big mirror, flipping his hair this way and that as he mimed the words to whatever song he was listening to.

Steve blinked, and stared.

Bucky whipped around when he saw Steve in the mirror, pulling his earbuds out. "Oh! I'm sorry," he said, wide-eyed. "I, um. I got a bit carried away."

"It's fine," Steve assured him. "Really. Listen, I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's work. I have to go."

"Oh." Bucky sagged in obvious relief. "Okay, let me grab my stuff and we can, uh, reschedule?"

"You can stay and finish up," Steve offered, but Bucky shook his head.

"Our insurance says we can't be alone in the client's property," he said with a wry grin. "It's no problem, we can make another time." He quickly gathered his stuff together and carried his bags back to the door, pausing to put his shoes on.

"I'm so sorry," Steve apologised. "I can pay extra for any inconvenience. If it wasn't important, I wouldn't cancel on you like this."

"Hey, no sweat." Bucky put on his jacket and picked up his bags again. "Saving the world is pretty important."

Steve stared at him in surprise. "Wait. You _know?_ "

"Yeah, I have eyes." Bucky flashed him a cheeky smile. "You're cooler than I thought you'd be, by the way."

"I... am?"

"Sure." Bucky opened the door and waved him goodbye. "Later, Steve!"

Steve blinked at the closed door in front of him, totally surprised. He hadn't told Winnie who he was, but had she figured it out? Or had Bucky simply recognised him?

He didn't have time to dwell, he had to go grab his shield from the closet and get himself downstairs.

Time to suit up.

 

 

Steve had to wait a full week before he saw Bucky again.

As soon as he let Bucky into his apartment, he tried to offer extra pay for wasting his time last week.

Bucky wouldn't hear of it. He assured Steve that they were used to it with high flying clients and their tight schedules, and it wasn't a problem.

"I still feel bad," Steve told him.

Bucky laughed in amusement. "Look, let's call it even? As I was slacking off on the job to learn my song. Please don't tell Winnie."

Steve grinned. "I won't."

"Thank God," Bucky said dramatically, taking his bags to the bathroom. He called over his shoulder, "You're a lifesaver, Steve!"

Steve smiled to himself, and tried to leave Bucky alone while he got to work. But he was on edge, unable to settle.

When Bucky had finished in the bathroom and came through to the kitchen, Steve found himself hovering.

"Sure I can't offer you a coffee?"

Bucky set his bags down by the stove and tilted his head around at Steve. "Well, just this once."

Steve was ecstatic. He got out one of his nicest mugs, and poured a coffee for Bucky. "How do you take it?"

Bucky snickered at that, and when Steve looked over Bucky waved a hand. "Oh, you mean the coffee! Right, right. Lots of cream, lots of sugar! Just like Mr. Wolf."

Steve didn't understand the reference, but he nodded and went to add cream and sugar to the coffee.

"Here."

"Thank you." Bucky smiled and did a sort of courtsey motion, then picked up the mug.

He seemed more animated today. Steve wasn't sure why, unless they had gone up a friendship level?

Were they friends now?

"I'm, uh, real sorry about last week," he said. Again.

"Steve, stop apologising," Bucky laughed. "I saw it on the six o' clock news. It was definitely more urgent than cleaning."

"Oh..." Steve went to fold his arms, then unfolded them and fidgeted. "Yeah, I guess that group of bad guys were flamboyant enough to make the news."

"Especially that dude in leopard print!" Bucky said excitedly. "Who the eff was that?"

"Kraven? I think?" Steve shrugged. "I was too distracted by the lasers shooting out of his..." Steve gestured at his pecs, making Bucky snort into his coffee. "Yeah. It was something, alright."

"All I wanna know is, where do those guys go for their tailoring?" Bucky asked. "A leopard print outfit and neck ruffle, it's so over the top."

"Beats me," Steve said.

"Well, I'm glad you guys handed their asses to them. The Avengers, huh? Catchy name."

Steve flushed. "Wasn't my idea. But, um. Yeah, we're doing alright."

"Your tailoring is pretty cool, too."

"It's getting there," Steve admitted. He tried to smile, feeling embarrassed. "I was gonna ask, does your, um... does Winnie know?"

"That you're Captain America? She had a hunch." Bucky flashed him that cheeky smile again. "She also said that if you're a Republican, to cancel you completely."

Steve laughed at that. "I'm not," he said firmly. "Nope."

"Well, then!" Bucky set down his finished coffee and clapped his hands together. "Now we straightened that out, I better get back to cleaning your already clean apartment."

Steve flushed harder. "Okay. Thank you."

 

When they were saying goodbye again at the door, Steve gathered up his courage and asked, "Hey, you know you said, before, um... you were learning a song?"

Bucky's expression changed from smiling to closed off in an instant.

"Yeah?" he said, cautious.

Steve lost his nerve, looking into Bucky's grey eyes and worried that he'd say the wrong thing.

"I, uh, never mind," he said, trying to brush it off. "Sorry."

"You wanna know why I had to learn the words?" Bucky guessed.

"It's okay, I shouldn't pry," Steve said. "I'm sorry."

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "Steve, stop apologising. Do you know what lip syncing is?"

"Um... no?"

"Okay, so..." Bucky looked up, as if thinking. "Ooh, I know! Have you seen Lip Sync Battle?"

"No? What's that?"

"It's a show on T.V.," Bucky told him. "It's fun." He smiled, bright and sincere, and Steve knew instantly that he trusted Bucky.

"Should I be watching it?" Steve asked.

Bucky nodded. "Mm-hm. And then you'll know why I need to learn words to songs. All will become clear!"

"Right." Steve nodded too. "Lip Sync?"

"Lip Sync Battle," Bucky clarified. "A lot of the clips are on YouTube."

"Okay, great. I'll watch it."

Bucky smiled, seeming pleased. "I hope you enjoy it. See you next week, Steve."

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This](https://66.media.tumblr.com/4f22ec8b0e3b111cdbd6dfdf6da115a5/tumblr_ppg3n4mKkt1v86a0h_540.jpg) is Kraven the hunter, and [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xn3tUOJ9yv4) is my fave Lip sync battle song.
> 
> Please subscribe if you enjoy this wip! Thank you <3


	4. Four

 

 

 

Steve _loved_ Lip Sync Battle.

Not only was it enjoyable and made him laugh, but he was also able to catch up on some modern pop culture with the songs, too.

He picked up full seasons on his streaming service and watched as much as he could in his downtime. Steve wanted to be fully up to speed the next time he saw Bucky.

But he was so excited about it, he ended up writing a text to Bucky one night. After writing and deleting the message a few times, Steve finally sent: _Lip Sync Battle is amazing, thank you for recommending it to me._

Then he set his phone down and tried not to expect a reply. He really didn't know what was considered appropriate interaction for them at this point, and realised he was pining for friendship more than anything.

Bucky probably didn't want to talk to him anyway, Steve reasoned, as his message went unanswered.

 

A half hour later, Bucky replied.

Steve was pleasantly surprised, and read the message: _Awesome! Any faves so far?_

Steve wrote back, _They're all great! It's hard to keep up with who's who sometimes._

_Want me to send you my faves?_ Bucky offered.

Steve blinked at the message on his screen, and a slow smile spread across his face.

_Yes, that would be great,_ he sent back. _Thank you._

Bucky sent him a bunch of links next, and Steve diligently watched them all. He noticed a particular theme among the video clips Bucky had sent: they were all men lip syncing songs by a female singer, and a couple of men dressed up as women to sing the songs.

Steve wasn't sure if Bucky was trying to ruffle his feathers with these choices, presuming that Captain America was a stick in the mud, or something like that. Or maybe these just were his favorites?

Steve wished he could ask. He couldn't figure it out. He decided to reply, and go with his gut and be honest.

_I like these,_ he wrote. _Reminds me of when some of the guys would dress up in the army, entertain the other guys._

Steve smiled to himself as he sent that, and waited for the reply.

He hadn't been entirely surprised to discover that those sorts of accounts had largely been left out of the history books. To him, it'd only been a couple years ago. To the rest of the world it was over seventy years.

_Wait, what?_ came Bucky's reply. _What do you mean, dress up?_

_Our own USO shows,_ Steve explained. _It was a thing long before I joined up, trust me. If we were camped out somewhere or laying low in a town, they'd borrow some clothes like an old dress or a nurse's uniform, and put on a show. It was all in good fun._

_WHAT,_ Bucky texted back. _I'm shook. Are you telling me that army dudes dressed up as women so other dudes could watch?_

_Yeah_ , Steve replied. _A can-can chorus was popular too, dressed up or not. Guess they left this out of your history classes?_

_Uh, YES_ , Bucky replied. _Holy shit. Have you got photos?_

_I don't have my own, but I saw some archives online_ , Steve sent. _Want me to send a link?_

_PLEASE._

Steve smiled, and Googled some history posts with a few grainy black and white photos that weren't very clear because of the quality of the picture, but Steve knew what was likely going down.

He sent them to Bucky, then waited a few minutes for a reply.

_This blew my mind_ , Bucky replied. _Thank you for taking me to school! Were they straight guys or what?_

Steve felt a little tense answering that, but he didn't want to shy away from the conversation either.

_I don't know_ , he wrote back. _Now that I think about it, it's possible they weren't all of them straight, but it didn't really occur to me._

_More innocent times, huh?_ Bucky replied.

_Maybe?_ Steve wrote. _Maybe it's just me, I'm terrible at reading people that way, and it wasn't polite to ask._

Bucky sent some smiling emojis in response, then, _So have you figured out I'm gay yet?_

_Well, I guess I have now?_ Steve replied, with a sweatdrop smiley face.

_I wasn't going to bring it up_ , Bucky wrote. _I didn't know how liberal Captain America is._

Steve rolled his eyes minutely, and wrote his reply. _Captain America is very liberal. So is Steve Rogers._

Then he added a couple smiley faces.

_Good to know_ , Bucky replied, with heart-eye emojis. _I'll see you next week at our regular time, then?_

_See you next week_ , Steve wrote, and added a smiley face.

He was smiling himself, pleased that he'd opened a dialogue with Bucky.

Hopefully he'd made a new friend.

 

~

 

Bucky was running late for the cleaning appointment, and had texted to say he was stuck in traffic.

Steve tried not to feel anxious, but he was excited to see Bucky again.

When Bucky finally arrived and came in the door, he seemed a little flustered.

"Traffic that bad?" Steve asked.

"Ugh, don't even," Bucky sighed, setting down his bags so he could toe off his shoes. "There was some sort of pile up so I tried to take a short cut, ended up being the _worst_ idea I've ever had."

Steve's lips twitched as he tried not to smile. "Surely not the worst?"

Bucky looked at him in surprise, then smiled slowly. "You're sassing me, aren't you? I can see it in your face."

Steve grinned, caught up in the moment and seeing Bucky smile back at him. "Maybe," he said.

"You are." Bucky grabbed his bags and headed to the bathroom. "And no, I suppose it isn't the worst idea I've ever had, ever."

"What is the worst?" Steve asked, trailing along behind him.

"Hmm..." Bucky entered the bathroom and set down his bags, going immediately to the mirror to re-tie his hair. "I mean, there's so many categories. Worst driving ideas ever, worst fashion choices ever..." He finished tying his hair up and turned around to look at Steve. "Worst dating choices ever. You get what I'm saying?"

"I... yes?" Steve wasn't sure he followed. "Lots of categories."

"I think my high school year book photo was pretty high in the ranks of terrible ideas," Bucky said.

"Why's that?"

"Well... everything was terrible," Bucky laughed. "My hair, my face, my braces, my clothes. A total mess."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad." Steve chuckled. "And at least _your_ bad old photos aren't currently in museums all over the country for people to point and laugh at. Some of us aren't so lucky."

Bucky burst out laughing, waving both hands in the air. "Oh, man, that is true! Your _hair_ , Steve, what was going on? I used to stare at the photos of you in history class as the professor droned on, and all I could think was, somebody get that poor boy some product in his hair! There was this big ol' flop..." Bucky mimed with his hands in front of his face.

"That wasn't my fault," Steve replied, trying not to grin. "I just have a lot of hair, okay?"

"You led the way for emos with the floppy bangs, Steve. Blond or not, you were sporting quite a flop."

"Well, I'm up to date now?" Steve gestured up at his head. "I'm sure in a few years I'll get roasted for this style too."

"No, it's great, it's great!" Bucky laughed, and seemed sincere. "It suits you, showing off your face more. You have wonderful bone structure and now it's all..." He waved his hands outwards. "On display. Ta da!"

"Not when I wear a mask," Steve mumbled.

"Oh, people can still tell," Bucky said matter of factly. "You have those amazing cheekbones and that jawline. If I want anything close to that sort of shape to my face I have to contour, you know?"

Steve didn't know, but he nodded anyway. He wasn't sure what to say, other than he didn't think Bucky had to change anything about his face, if that's what he'd implied. But Bucky didn't give him a chance, and waved his hands again.

"Anyway, don't get me talking, I'll never stop. I'd better start actually cleaning, or I'll run over."

Steve nodded again, because he didn't want to impose. "Yes, sorry. My fault."

"Hardly your fault," Bucky said with a laugh, "but if Winnie asks why I'm late to the next client, I can tell her it's your fault if you want."

Steve smiled, and left Bucky alone.

He hung about in the lounge by himself, restless and keyed up from those short minutes chatting to Bucky.

Steve would've loved to chat to him more, but Bucky was doing a job and it wouldn't be fair, especially if he was already running late.

Steve tried to make himself busy, letting Bucky work in peace, but when Bucky made his way into the kitchen Steve ended up there too.

"Would you like some coffee?" he offered.

Bucky's stomach gurgled in response, and Steve raised his eyebrows.

"Ugh, better not." Bucky smiled wryly. "Not on an empty stomach."

Steve opened his mouth to ask if Bucky had skipped lunch, but decided questions wouldn't be much help, and instead opened the cupboard with his snacks in.

"Here," he said, holding out a protein bar. "I have a million of these, so if you want one..."

Bucky looked at the proffered bar, then up at Steve. "What sort is it? You're not trying to Regina George me, are you?"

"I understood that reference," Steve replied, because Clint had made him and Sam watch Mean Girls with him, "and no, it's not a weight gain bar or anything. It's just protein and fruit, all organic."

"Oh." Bucky reached out for the bar, and Steve handed it over.

He watched Bucky read the label and make a considering face. "Fruits of the forest, huh?"

Steve chuckled. "I have a bunch of other flavors if you prefer?"

"What you got?"

"Let's see." Steve went to his cupboard and pulled out one of the packets. "Honey and oats. Nuts, or caramel."

"Um..."

Bucky sounded indecisive, so Steve picked out one of each flavor and offered them to Bucky.

"I have hundreds of these," he said. "Please have them. I don't want you to go hungry."

Bucky giggled, cradling the bars in his hands. "I'll never go hungry again!"

"I can make you a sandwich?" Steve offered, but Bucky waved a hand.

"No, God. But thank you, that's sweet. I'm, uh, I'm on a diet."

"A diet?" Steve repeated, surprised.

Bucky looked a bit embarrassed, but he smiled. "Yeah, just... cutting out a few of the corndogs, you know? I have dresses to fit into and it's getting to be a problem."

Steve's eyes flicked down Bucky's body. He honestly couldn't see a problem with Bucky's size.

"Can't the dresses be adjusted?" he said. That's what his ma had always done.

Bucky laughed loudly. "Steve, at the rate I'm going, I'd need to add a whole extra dress onto each dress, and I can't afford to replace my wardrobe. It's fine, I need to..." He looked down, seeming shy. "I should lose a few pounds anyway."

"I don't think you need to," Steve blurted out. "But I respect your choice, of course. Do you make your own dresses?"

Bucky met his eyes, a quizzical look on his face. "Huh?"

"Do you make your own?" Steve repeated.

"Oh. No, I can't sew. I'm terrible at it."

"My ma could sew," Steve explained. "For a time she worked as a seamstress, and I helped her. I could, um, give you some pointers? If you want."

Steve felt his cheeks flush because Bucky was staring at him like he'd grown a second head.

"Or, um. Sorry," Steve mumbled. "Was that rude?"

"What?" Bucky blinked, and shook his head. "No, that's... very nice of you. I just thought I'd hallucinated, that's all."

Steve smiled. "A man can sew, it's not that uncommon."

"It is now," Bucky retorted, and laughed. "Seriously, are you saying you can alter dresses, or make a whole dress from scratch?"

"Yeah, well, both," Steve said. "I'd need the pattern, and as long as it's not too complicated, I'm sure I can handle it."

"Hmm." Bucky seemed appraising. "And... a guy in a dress doesn't bother you at all?"

"No, why would it?" Steve hoped his cheeks weren't turning pink.

"Hmm," Bucky hummed again, a smile on his lips. "Good to know. Hey, you know what? I really want a fitted dress for my Jessica Rabbit number, and I can't ever get anything that fits me."

"Jessica who?" Steve asked.

"Jessica Rabbit. Have you seen the movie?"

"I don't think so?"

"Oh, you should watch it!" Bucky's eyes lit up when he smiled. "Who Framed Roger Rabbit. Actually, I think it's set in the forties? You should totally watch it! And then you can tell me if you can make a dress like the one she wears."

"Okay." Steve smiled back. "I'll watch it later."

"Awesome!" Bucky bounced on his tip-toes. "Well, yeah, let me know! I can get the fabric, I just can't sew anything."

"Between us we should do alright, then," Steve joked. "If, um, if I'm not called in, I'm free tonight or tomorrow. I have space in the lounge."

"Okay." Bucky nodded, looking pleased. "I'll have to get the fabric, so maybe tomorrow?"

"Alright," Steve agreed. "I can watch the movie and find a dress pattern online, right?"

"Great!" Bucky beamed a smile at him. "Then it's a date."

Steve smiled back, and couldn't help wondering, was it a _date_ date?

 

 

 

 


	5. Five

 

 

 

_I_ _s it a date if the date brings their friends?_

Steve sent the text to Sam.

He knew Sam was at one of his niece's birthday parties today. Meanwhile Steve, as promised, was busy making a dress for Bucky in his lounge, but he'd ducked out to text Sam under the pretence of using the bathroom.

Steve's phone flashed with a new message from Sam: _Whoa! You have a date??!_

There was a string of shocked face emojis, which made Steve smile wryly.

 _Please just answer my question, and you can grill me when I see you tomorrow. I'm currently hiding in the bathroom_.

Sam replied with laughing emojis. _Man, I'll hold you to that. So you're at your place?_

 _Yes_ , Steve wrote back, and fibbed a bit: _We're doing an art project for him, and he brought along two friends. But I thought it was just going to be me and him, and he'd said it was a date._

Steve had already sent the message when he realised that he'd just outed himself to Sam that his date was with a guy. He'd been so caught up in omitting the dress making part, he'd completely forgotten about anything else.

"Shit," he muttered, feeling panic seep through him for a solid minute before Sam replied.

_In which case, Steve, are you sure he's even into other guys?_

There were some smiley faces added, so Steve breathed a sigh of relief.

 _He made it a point to tell me he's gay_ , Steve replied. _I thought we'd been flirting. He just asked last minute if he could bring his friends, and showed up with a guy and a girl._

 _Hm, tricky_ , Sam wrote back. _Problem is, there's no clear guidelines for dating any more. My advice as a friend is, go with the flow, relax. Maybe he brought his friends because he's nervous, or he's feeling you out._

 _I didn't think of that_ , Steve replied. _You're right, I should just relax and hang out, right?_

 _Right,_ Sam sent, with a gif of some celebrity throwing confetti. _Go have fun!_

 _Roger_ , Steve replied. _Thanks, Sam_.

Then he put his phone away, and headed back to the lounge.

Fun. He could do this.

Now Steve had a clear objective, he felt a little more relaxed about having Bucky and two of his friends in his home.

Kamala, the sweet and polite girl with big square glasses, was still sitting cross-legged on the floor with all the dress patterns and material they'd been comparing. She looked up when Steve approached, and smiled at him.

"I think I like this one," she said, holding out a pattern.

Steve smiled back at her. "Let's see," he replied, and sat down next to her.

Bucky was on the couch with his friend Bobby, a slim blond guy who looked around Bucky's age, or maybe Kamala's.

Steve had no idea if Bucky's friends knew he was Captain America, and they hadn't said anything to suggest they did. They'd simply shown up with fabric, a bottle of wine, and settled in.

Bobby and Bucky were complaining about someone they knew, and Steve had deduced that Bobby performed at the same club Bucky did.

"And he was like, my eyebrows are _not_ uneven," Bobby said dramatically, as Bucky laughed at the impression. "And then I said, sis, _yes_ they are."

Steve felt confused. "Why does it matter if someone's eyebrows are uneven?"

That just made the two boys laugh again.

"Not real eyebrows, drawn on eyebrows," Kamala said, pushing her glasses down a bit and gesturing on her forehead. "They draw them way up here."

"Oh." Steve understood now. "Got it."

"So, Steve," Bobby said, "have you been to a drag show in New York?"

"Um..." Steve focused on the material in his hands. He was trying to choose between two red pieces. "Yes, I have, but... not for a while."

Like, over seventy years.

"Is he coming to ours?" Bobby stage whispered to Bucky, then said louder, "You should come to ours!"

"I was going to bring it up," Bucky said, glancing at Steve. "The next show is Saturday night."

Kamala burst out, "Oh, please come, Steve! I'll have someone to sit with in the audience."

"You don't perform?" Steve asked, acutely aware that Bucky and Bobby were watching his reaction.

"Oh, no," Kamala laughed. "I'm happy watching."

"And being our Uber driver," Bobby laughed. "Come on Saturday," he said to Steve. "Witness how awesome we are, and how wonky Daken's eyebrows are."

Bucky spluttered into his wine with a laugh. "Stop it! Steve's gonna think we're shady bitches."

"We are not," Bobby gasped, overly dramatic. "Anyway, Daken deserves it, he is such a pain in my ass. Did I tell you about the whole lipstick episode?"

"No, tell me!" Bucky demanded.

Steve glanced up, seeing Bucky's mischievous grin as he gossiped with his friend, and he smiled automatically. Then Kamala got his attention by unfolding the red fabric she liked best, and laying it out on the floor. Steve had to pay attention to the pattern he was about to cut.

"Daken's lipstick," Bobby started, loud enough for everyone to hear, "was a turquoise blue, okay? It apparently went missing in the dressing room one night, and instead of looking for it like a normal person would, he came right over to me and accused me of stealing his lipstick when the color I had on was purple."

"Oh, my God," Bucky whispered. "What happened next?"

Kamala looked up at Steve, catching his eye before she rolled hers minutely.

Steve suppressed a smile.

"So, I told him," Bobby went on, "look, my lipstick is clearly purple and not your lipstick. But he just popped off at me!"

"It's because he's hot for you," Kamala said calmly.

Bobby snorted. "I don't blame him, but..." He paused as both Bucky and Kamala laughed at his statement. "Trust me, it's never gonna happen."

"Why not?" Steve asked, honestly curious.

"Well, firstly," Bobby replied, "I have a boyfriend. Secondly, Daken is always being a drama queen about something, and it's too much stress for me."

"Yeah, you're not dramatic at all," Bucky said dryly.

Bobby mock gasped, and they all laughed again.

Bucky had a nice laugh, Steve noted. It was soft and a little breathy.

Now Bobby had mentioned having a boyfriend, though, Steve wanted to find something out.

"Does your boyfriend watch the show too?" he asked.

"He's in the show," Bobby replied, sounding a little smug.

Steve automatically looked to Bucky, but he couldn't figure out if Bobby had meant him.

He kind of hoped not.

"If you come on Saturday night, Steve," Kamala said, "I'll point him out to you."

"Oh." Steve nodded, still unclear who it would be. "Sure."

"You should probably slap a disguise on," Bobby mentioned. "Otherwise the audience will notice and draw focus from _me_ onstage."

Steve looked up in surprise, just as Bucky snorted at Bobby. "Yes, Bobs, you're the star."

"Disguise?" Steve said weakly.

"Yeah, you don't want to get mobbed, do you?" Bobby said with a chuckle.

Steve looked at Bucky. "They know?"

"Oh, Steve." Bucky smiled at him. "Yes, they know, but they won't talk to anyone, don't worry. Bobby is a child movie star..." He gestured at Bobby, who raised his arms up in a pose.

"I'm probably more famous than you," he said, which made Bucky snort again.

"And Kamala," Bucky gestured to her next, "well, her dad is a celebrity lawyer, and her mom is an agent."

"Agent?" Steve looked at Kamala curiously.

"For actors," she clarified. "Not a secret agent, if that's what you're thinking."

Bucky and Bobby both dissolved into giggles. "Your mom as a secret agent!" Bobby laughed. "Oh, my God!"

"My mom was Bobby's agent," Kamala explained. "And Bucky's uncle's, too. That's how we met."

Steve smiled at her. "So you've met quite a few movie stars?"

"Oh, yeah!" she said with a grin. "And my sister manages music artists. I've met a lot of cool people."

"But, remember," Bobby piped up. "Disguise Mister American Dream, okay?"

"I'm on it," Bucky told him. "Steve, how do you feel about full drag? Dress, wig, make-up?"

Steve looked round at him in surprise, only to see Bucky dissolve into giggles.

"I'm kidding! We'll just throw on a fake mustache, or something."

"Oh, okay." Steve chuckled. "I think I can deal with that."

He got to work cutting out the chosen pattern with Kamala. It was a classic gown style in two parts, so not too complicated.

Steve didn't have a dummy, though. He looked over to Bucky, who was busy chatting. "Um, Bucky? Shall we start to pin it on you?"

"Ooh, exciting!" Bobby cheered, as Bucky put his wine glass down and got up. He took his sweatshirt off, leaving a thin t-shirt on with his sweatpants.

Kamala cleared a space on the floor, picking up the remaining patterns and material they weren't going to use.

"How do you want me?" Bucky said teasingly.

Steve tried not to blush on the spot. "Um, just stand here, and lift your arms for me."

Bucky stood still, and lifted his arms as instructed. Steve started with the easy part first: the big piece of material that would be the skirt. He gently wrapped it around Bucky's waist, relieved that his measurements were correct.

There was going to be a long slit up the skirt, to show leg, and Steve crouched down on one knee as he tried to gauge how best to hang the fabric from Bucky's body.

Kamala knelt down next to him to help hold it.

"Thanks," he told her, and arranged the skirt at the bottom. "Um, how much leg do you want to show?" He looked up at Bucky, who was looking down at him before he looked away shyly.

"What would look best?" he asked quietly. "Bearing in mind my thighs are kinda big."

"Um, how about..." Steve shuffled the fabric a bit, rearranging how it fell. The material had a shiny finish, so it was smooth and silky to the touch. "Maybe like this?"

Steve leaned back as much as he could to see the side slit he'd made. Kamala and Bobby had a look too, Bobby sipping on his wine.

"Looks fine," he said. "Hard to tell with the sweatpants, though, Buck."

"Well, this is just a first fitting, right?" Bucky asked. "I don't have to get naked right now."

Steve made an involuntary noise, and coughed to cover it up. "Uh, yeah, you're fine like this. I won't be finishing this in one night, it's just to get an idea of the pattern." He felt on the floor for the pin box. "I'm just going to pin this, and you can have a test run to the mirror, see how it feels."

"Awesome."

Steve and Kamala pinned the skirt, while Bobby went back to the couch. The material was fairly heavy, so Steve used a lot of pins to make it stay where he wanted.

"There," he said, feeling happy with the skirt. "Wanna go try it out?"

"You should've brought your heels," Kamala said, as Bucky began to walk slowly away.

"Next time, I guess." He looked round at Steve, like he was asking for permission.

Steve smiled at him. "It would probably help. We'll need a few more fittings anyway. I'm not that talented at dress making."

"I disagree!" Kamala gestured at Bucky. "That skirt looks amazing."

Bucky did a little twirl, and smiled happily. "I've never had a fitting before."

Steve felt his face flush a little at that. "I hope it's what you wanted. The top half is going to be the tricky part."

"When are tops _not_ tricky?" Bobby said with a snicker. Bucky laughed too, covering his mouth with his hand.

"My boyfriend is––" Bobby started, but Kamala held up her hand.

" _No_ ," she said firmly. "Bobs, you've used up all your _my boyfriend_ quota for tonight. Save it for another day."

Bucky laughed as Bobby retorted, "I don't talk about him that much."

"Yeah, you do," Kamala and Bucky said together.

"Anyway, guys..." Kamala checked her phone. "If we want to catch Domino and Wade, we better leave real soon because traffic."

"On it!" Bobby guzzled the rest of his wine in one go.

Kamala turned back to Bucky. "Shall I help un-pin you?"

"I, um, I'm not really feeling going out," Bucky said, glancing to Steve. "If I call an Uber, do you mind if I wait for it here?"

"Uh, sure," Steve said, feeling butterflies in his belly. "No problem at all."

Bucky smiled back at him, then said to Kamala, "You guys can go now if you want. Give Wade and Doms a kiss from me."

"Okay," Kamala said easily, getting up to stand. Bobby was looking at Bucky with a shit-eating grin, until Kamala took him by the elbow and ushered him out. "C'mon, Bobs. I'll allow you one extra anecdote about your boyfriend on the way there."

Bobby lit up at that, clapping his hands together. "I'll make it a good one!"

"Lucky me." Kamala waved goodbye as she grabbed her purse and jacket. "It was nice to meet you, Steve. See you Saturday?"

"You, too," Steve said. "And I can't wait."

"Bye, guys!" Bobby waved as they left. "Have fun, don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"Or don't do anything he would," Kamala added.

"Ignore them," Bucky said, as the door to Steve's apartment shut and they were left alone. "Are we un-pinning the skirt now?"

"Yeah, we should." Steve crouched down again and began to unpin the material from Bucky. "I don't have a sewing machine yet, so I need to get that. I should get a dummy, too."

"Can we borrow them?" Bucky asked, lifting his arms so they weren't in Steve's way. "I don't want you to spend loads of money."

"I'm pretty good on eBay." Steve smiled up at him. "And there's some thrift stores with great stuff in them I wanted to check out."

"I like thrift stores," Bucky said, as Steve unwrapped the skirt from his waist. "Shall I come with you?"

"Uh, okay," Steve said, a little surprised. "I mean, yeah. That'd be great."

Bucky smiled shyly, and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. He had it loose tonight, down to his shoulders and he looked lovely.

He did seem kind of shy, and Steve was feeling shy himself so there was definitely a light tension in the air now Bucky's friends had gone.

Steve made himself busy by setting the skirt on his table and collecting up the pins. Bucky ordered his Uber, then they sat on Steve's couch together with a whole cushion of space between them.

Steve didn't know what to say, and a few beats of silence passed before Bucky spoke up.

"Thank you," he said, glancing at Steve briefly. "I'm real excited for the dress."

"Me, too," Steve said. "I mean, I never made a dress quite like this before."

"You ever make one for a guy?" Bucky asked.

"Um... not to my knowledge?" Steve chuckled. "But the dresses my mom made were all different sizes, so I'm confident the end result will look good."

Bucky nodded slowly. "And... you're sure you want to come watch us at the club on Saturday? In drag?"

"Yeah, it'll be fun. Even if I do have to wear a fake mustache."

Bucky laughed, effectively breaking the tension. "Better safe than sorry. You don't want to upstage all those queens, or they'll come after you with high heels."

"Mustache it is, then."

 

When Bucky's Uber arrived, Steve walked him to his apartment door.

"Do you want me to... walk you out to the car, or anything?" Steve offered.

Bucky smiled, but shook his head. "I'm fine, but thank you."

"Let me know you got home safe?"

"I will." Bucky hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something else for a moment. "Um, thanks again, Steve. I'll see you soon."

"Bye, Bucky." Steve held the door for him as Bucky waved goodbye, and left.

Steve stood there for a moment absorbing the quiet, then slowly wandered back to the lounge.

He sat on the couch, and his burner phone buzzed with a message. Steve smiled when he saw it was from Bucky, saying he was in his Uber and on his way home.

Steve started typing out a thank you, and wanted to add something like he'd had fun tonight, or he'd enjoyed Bucky's company...

Which was all true but he didn't want to get ahead of himself, especially if Bucky thought of him as a friend.

And friends was fine. Friends was really great.

Steve settled for _Thank you for letting me know_ , with a string of smiley emojis.

Bucky sent an emoji in reply: a little red lipstick kiss.

Steve stared at that message for a long minute before giving into his impulse to send a kiss emoji back.

And now he definitely wasn't sure if this was a friendly thing or something else entirely.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Six

 

 

 

Steve didn't end up making it to the club on Saturday night, due to Avengers business.

Bucky couldn't begrudge him for that, except...

Maybe he sort of begrudged the circumstance of it all more than he begrudged Steve himself. Because Steve was great, it was just that Bucky felt disappointed, which was a buzzkill.

It'd been a good show, and a fun night. Steve had missed out.

Bucky had drunk _maybe_ a couple too many drinks than he normally did, to drown his disappointment, and he regretted that decision the next morning.

He shouldn't even be awake, but he'd wanted to check his phone to see if Steve had sent another text after his brief one yesterday about heading out to China with the Avengers.

Nothing yet.

Bucky hoped he was alright.

He put his phone on charge and tried to go back to sleep. The sun was bright and shining in through the drapes, because Bucky was an idiot who couldn't close them properly before going to sleep.

He dozed for another hour before dragging himself out of bed. Bucky couldn't be bothered to shower yet, so he tied his hair up and used a few wet wipes on his face to remove the last dregs of make-up and glitter from around his eyes.

He needed coffee.

Bucky had the whole day to himself, and his usual Sunday ritual was to walk down to his favorite coffee place and get himself a quiet cup of coffee while he woke up properly. And he didn't much care what he looked like, so he grabbed the nearest, cleanest clothes to hand: some old cuffed jeans with holes in, a t-shirt and hoodie, and his tennis shoes.

He filled his pockets with his wallet, keys and sunglasses, then grabbed his phone and earbuds before heading downstairs.

The house was quiet, which was normal as it was just him and Winnie most of the time. The brownstone belonged to Bucky's uncle, but as he spent most of his time in Los Angeles for his movies, he stayed in his Malibu home. After Bucky's dad had died, and Winnie was left with a lot of the medical bills to pay off, she'd decided to sell off the family home. Uncle Frank had let them both stay in the brownstone, and really it was pretty cool.

Bucky would never be able to afford somewhere as nice as this, in such a good and convenient part of the city, on his own. He pretty much had the upper floors to himself anyway, as Winnie tended to stay downstairs.

Bucky found her on the ground floor before he headed outside: she was in the parlor so she could watch the quiet street, in her favorite chair with the cat in her lap. She had her tablet out too, always busy with something.

"Hey, Mom," Bucky said, slipping on his sunglasses. "You need anything from the store?"

"Oh, would you pick up a couple tins of cat food for Chester?" she replied, smiling at him. "You know the sort he likes."

"Uh huh." Bucky eyed the cat sprawled over his mom's lap. That animal was spoiled rotten. "Got it. Anything else?"

"No, that's all. Hey, how was your show?"

"Yeah, good. I'll give you the deets later." Bucky waved a goodbye, knowing Winnie wouldn't mind his abrupt exit. She knew he had to caffeinate before conversation, especially with a hangover.

Bucky let himself out, taking a moment on the doorstep to appreciate the quiet of the street: only a couple cars, the wind blowing gently in the trees lining the sidewalks, with a few birds chirping.

Bliss.

After a night of loud party music and listening to people talk nonstop, this was just what he needed. Bucky put his earbuds in and selected his chillout playlist.

The coffee place he liked best was only two blocks away, and he set off at a leisurely pace.

 

Bucky ordered his usual coffee and waited at the counter.

He'd checked his phone a couple times already to see if Steve had messaged him, but nothing. There hadn't even been any trending news stories on social media, and that usually happened whenever the Avengers showed up.

Unless Steve had lied to him as an excuse to not go out last night.

Bucky didn't know Steve very well, but he was certainly aware that Steve was shy. Maybe he just hadn't wanted to come out to a club, especially a gay one.

Well, either way, it hardly mattered what the reason was. Steve hadn't been able to make it, and that was that. Bucky wasn't mad or anything.

He was just a bit on edge. Sort of like he was waiting to hear from Steve, to know he was alright.

It was bad enough with Bobby and Kamala last night asking where Steve was, but now Winnie would probably question him over it when he got home. Bucky should've kept his mouth shut about Steve, but excitement had gotten the better of him and Bucky had wanted to tell his mom and his best friends about Steve.

"Eh, fuck it," he muttered, and pulled out his phone again.

He fired off a short text to Steve: _Hope you're okay. Show was fun, we missed you tho!_

Then he put his phone back in his pocket and let out a long breath.

Bucky's coffee was up, and as he reached out for the cup he felt a buzz in his pocket. His breath caught, and Bucky hurried to check his phone.

Steve had replied.

Bucky was honestly surprised. He had to read the message twice for the words to sink in: _Hey! We just landed back in NYC actually, everything's fine. How are you? I'm sorry I missed the show._

Bucky found himself a table to sit at so he could drink his coffee and reply at the same time. _Great! Glad you're okay. I was looking for you on the news. I'm fine, just mildly hungover and having my first coffee._

 _Pretty sure it'll show up on the news soon_ , Steve replied. _Are you busy today? I was going to head into the village on my way home and look for a tailor's dummy._

Bucky couldn't believe it. Excitement shot through him, swiftly followed by regret when he realised he looked a total mess.

Why.

Why didn't he take a shower before heading out today.

Because he was a moron. 

Oh, well. He'd looked worse.

 _I'm not busy_ , Bucky sent back, _I can meet you in the village! I look a total disaster tho, be warned._

 _Same, so we'll both be disasters!_ Steve replied. _Ok, great! There's a thrift store called Angel's, do you know it? I can meet you there._

 _I know it_ , Bucky sent. _I can be there in around 35 minutes._

 _Perfect! See you soon_ , Steve replied. Bucky read the message and sat there grinning to himself.

 

 

~

 

 

Steve did _not_ look like a total disaster, unlike Bucky knew he himself did, so either Steve had no real concept of how incredibly attractive he looked, or he was a huge liar.

Bucky even pulled off his sunglasses in order to squint at Steve as he approached the thrift store, looking like a fitness model in designer Under Armor.

Maybe his blond hair was a little more smushed than normal, but seriously.

"Steve," Bucky said as soon as he'd gotten close enough, "in what reality do you think that _your_ look right now constitutes a total disaster?"

Steve grinned, looking a little bashful but Bucky saw the mischievous glint in his eye. "I don't think you look like a disaster either."

Bucky scoffed, and gestured at himself: hoodie covered in cat hair (thanks, Chester, really), a very unflattering baggy t-shirt with a stain on it, and old jeans. Even Bucky's shoes had holes in. "This," he indicated himself, "is my get coffee and hopefully don't run into another human being outfit. But it's fine, because last night I looked _amazing_ , and the universe has to balance out somehow."

Steve laughed quietly, his eyes crinkling up with mirth. "You mean you don't go onstage looking like this?" he sassed.

"Shut up," Bucky replied, hiding a smile. "Let's go raid these stores."

 

The thrift store wasn't busy, it was still early for a Sunday, but there were a couple people in there and Bucky noticed them giving Steve side-eye and maybe staring a bit too long.

Steve seemed to notice too, and judging by the way he ducked his head and went quiet all of a sudden, Bucky figured he didn't particularly want to be stared at or interact with strangers.

Especially if he'd just got off work Avengering.

Luckily, Bucky was used to celebs having to hide in plain sight, so he snatched a hat from a shelf as they passed by.

"Do you usually go out like this?" he asked quietly, reaching up to set the hat onto Steve's head. It was a floppy flat cap, and Bucky had to tamp down a laugh.

"Um, yeah?" Steve reached up to adjust the cap. "I ran here, so..."

Bucky found a pair of tinted orange sunflower glasses, and carefully set those onto Steve's face.

"Uh huh." He looked up, meeting Steve's eyes. "Well, now you have a bit of a disguise."

Steve smiled warmly. "Thanks, Buck."

"No sweat." Bucky patted Steve's bicep (and, wow, hard as a rock) then quickly averted his attention elsewhere. "Oh, here's one for me," he said, finding a black bowler hat. He set it on his head and tilted it to the side. "Farewell, mein lieber herr," he said in his best husky voice.

Steve frowned mildly. "Huh?"

"It was a fine affair, but now it's over!" Bucky sang, striking a dramatic pose with the back of his hand to his forehead.

"Oh, is this a song?" Steve said, which had Bucky's mouth dropping open.

"You haven't seen Cabaret? You should totally watch it!"

"Okay." Steve grinned at him. "What's it about?"

"Well, it's set in a nightclub in..." Bucky trailed off as he realised that the content of the movie may not be something Steve wanted to see. Unless he skipped the sad ending with all the Nazis, perhaps. "Uh," he fudged, removing the bowler hat, "you know, maybe something else to start with would be better. Do you like musicals? I know some people don't..."

"Sure, I like them." Steve followed him as Bucky browsed the rest of the shelf, and chuckled when Bucky found a trilby hat.

"Ooh, Chicago!" Bucky exclaimed, setting the trilby onto his head. "Come on, babe, why don't we paint the town," he sang, doing a little shimmy on the spot. "And all that jazz!"

"Sounds good," Steve told him. "I'm in." He found a pink feather boa that had certainly seen better days and threw it around his neck, like he wanted to join in the dress up.

"Here, let me." Bucky went to adjust it for him, because he was a fussy queen. "That's better."

"I'm ready for my close up, Mr. Demille," Steve said with a wicked grin.

Bucky laughed, then realised Steve had made a movie reference. "You've seen Sunset Boulevard?"

"Yeah." Steve shrugged. "I watched a few black and white movies on my own recently. It was familiar, you know?"

Bucky nodded in understanding. "Sure. So have you got any recs?"

"Recommendations?" Steve looked up in thought, giving Bucky a perfect angle to admire his jawline. "Yeah. Some Like It Hot."

"Oh, my God!" Bucky threw his hands up. "That's only my absolute favorite!"

Steve smiled at him with that twinkle in his eye. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, and that was the first time as a kid I watched men in drag. I knew right then that was exactly what I wanted to do."

"How old were you?" Steve asked, as they found a clothes section to browse.

"About... nine or ten?" Bucky guessed, rifling through the rack of dresses. "I was home sick from school, watching old movies on cable. It just happened to come on, and I loved every minute of it." He pulled out a sequin dress and held it against himself. "And the rest, as they say, is history."

Steve smiled happily, and rifled through the rack too until he picked out a satin evening gown. "I like the ending best," Steve told him, "where he says he's a man, and the other guy says, well, nobody's perfect."

He offered the gown to Bucky, and their fingers brushed as Bucky took hold of it.

"Uh, yeah." Bucky smiled back. "That's my favorite part."

 

 

Bucky was in trouble.

Either Steve was flirting with him (and if so, _yay_ , but also like, holy shit) or Steve was just naturally flirty and a real sweet guy, which was entirely possible.

Bucky had no idea, and it was frustrating because he was usually pretty good at figuring this stuff out. Steve was hard to gauge: as they took their time browsing and chatting, Bucky upped the flirting on his end, just to see how Steve would react, but when Bucky flirted a bit too much Steve seemed to grow shy and would retreat into his shell.

Then again, they were out in public. Bucky had to remember that. 

Someone had already recognised Steve when they were at the counter to pay for the stuff they'd picked out, and asked him for a photo.

So much for his disguise, Bucky thought. But all those bulging muscles in tight Under Armor were eye catching on their own.

Bucky grabbed a large Hawaiian shirt last minute and paid for that, and when they were leaving the store he told Steve to put it on. The hat and glasses stayed on, too.

Steve seemed mildly amused by it all, but he didn't protest. He also carried the bags of dresses for Bucky, but they still had no tailor's dummy or sewing machine.

"Want to check out another store?" Steve asked.

"Sure," Bucky agreed.

This was the first time he and Steve had hung out just the two of them without Bucky working, and it was nice. Steve was very nice, but of course Bucky knew that already.

He felt a crush looming.

They walked down the block together on the shady side of the street. Bucky was very aware of not wanting to crowd into Steve or talk too much, and now he couldn't think of a damn thing to say.

Steve broke the silence by asking, "How was that guy with the eyebrows?"

Bucky was confused for a moment, before remembering that he and Bobby had mentioned Daken and his wonky eyebrows to Steve the other night.

"Oh." Bucky snorted a laugh. "Eyebrows were so low down the list of dramas last night. Daken got mad at Bobby over set times, then Namor got involved and they got in this big yelling match backstage. I thought they'd start rolling on the floor snatching wigs, but Wade managed to calm them down."

"Wow. Sounds intense."

"Intense is right," Bucky laughed. "Next time I'll bring popcorn."

They got to the second thrift store, and this one had less clothes and more things, but the only tailor's dummies they found were being used to display clothes.

"Maybe it'd be easier to get one online," Bucky mused, checking the price tag of a dress. Like he needed more dresses.

"I'm sure we'll find one." Steve seemed content to browse. "I still need a sewing machine too."

Bucky shot him a smile. "Thanks again for helping me out. I can't wait for all those other bitches to see my awesome new dress."

Steve laughed at that. "I hope I can live up to your expectations."

Bucky was about to answer with a flirty response, then thought better of it.

If Steve really was shy, then maybe he should play it cool. Bucky was aware he could be a little much sometimes, or so he'd been told in the past.

"Oh, hey, look," Steve said, rooting around in a messy back corner of the store. "That looks like a tailor's dummy to me."

"Huh." Bucky was pleasantly surprised. "You think it's for sale, though?"

"May as well ask. The worst they'll say is no."

 

The person on the counter must've recognised Steve, despite the half assed disguise, as they looked quietly starstruck when Steve spoke to them.

Either that, or they thought Steve was hot, which Bucky figured was fair.

Through sheer charm and offering to pay extra, Steve managed to purchase a tailor's dummy that was in reasonably good condition.

"Do you need a hand getting this to your car?" the cashier asked, clearly hoping Steve would say yes.

Bucky was about to respond but Steve beat him to it. "We'll be fine," he said brightly, picking up the dummy and holding it under its base with only one hand.

The base stand was thick wood: not a ton, but not light as a feather either, though it appeared to be light for Steve.

Bucky's heart was all aflutter at the casual display of strength. He went to pick up the bags of clothes but Steve picked those up too.

"I can carry one," Bucky tried to say, but Steve only smiled at him as he carried everything like a gentleman.

"It's fine," he assured Bucky. "I meant to ask, did you drive here?"

"Uh, no, I got the bus," Bucky replied, as they left the store. "I was far too hungover to drive this morning."

"Fair." Steve looked around the street, which was busier now it was nearing midday. "I'm actually kind of hungry, but if we go anywhere we'll have to take this stuff with us."

"And it's busy," Bucky pointed out. Everyone and their dog was out for Sunday brunch right now.

"My place isn't too far," Steve said with a smile. "Shall we jump in a cab and eat lunch there?"

Bucky attempted to school his features so he didn't look too visibly surprised or excited at the offer.

"Sure," he said, cool as a cucumber. "That sounds good."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _withered voice_ It's been 84 years...

 

 

 

Okay, so here they were back at Steve's apartment, Bucky thought.

Just the two of them.

They'd gotten a cab over, Steve insisting he pay it. Then, after taking all the bags plus the tailor's dummy, Steve led the way up to his apartment.

Bucky was so elated. Really, this was as exciting as his life got.

His phone buzzed in his pocket as they were setting all the stuff down inside Steve's apartment, and Bucky checked his new message.

It was Winnie, asking if he was okay and to not forget the food for Chester.

Bucky winced. Dammit, he'd gotten distracted. He quickly texted back a reply, saying he was with a friend and that he'd get cat food on the way home.

"Everything alright?" Steve asked.

Bucky smiled. "It's my mom. I said I'd pick up cat food, but I'll do it later."

"Oh," Steve said, looking surprised. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you."

"No, no," Bucky hurried to say. "I wanna hang out. Chester isn't exactly starving, he'll be fine a few more hours." A blush heated his face as Bucky registered his own words. "Or, you know. However long he has to wait." He cleared his throat.

Steve smiled at him kindly, because he was Steve.

"You hungry?" he asked. "I'm going to make a sandwich, so I'll make you one too?"

"Oh, uh, sure," Bucky said. "Anything on it except mustard, okay?"

"No mustard, got it." Steve smiled again, then headed to the kitchen. "Make yourself at home!" he called back.

Bucky nodded, and he slipped off his shoes by the door. Steve's place was always so clean, even before Bucky had would clean the place. He threw off his hoodie too, and padded through to the lounge.

Steve had put Bucky's bags of thrift store dresses near the couch, and the tailor's dummy was standing there too. Bucky went over and had a good look at it, touching the waist with his hands and turning it on the spot.

It wasn't bad at all. Now he just had to expand the waist to match his own doughy physique, and they'd be good to go.

Bucky struggled with the dummy for a couple minutes before giving up. He didn't want to break it, so he flopped onto the couch instead and started to rummage through his bags.

A queen could never have too many dresses.

Bucky pulled out the evening gown, the one that Steve had found, and stroked his fingers over the material. He smiled to himself. It was a beautiful dress. It'd definitely need altering to fit him, but Bucky was used to that. He tried to pick dresses that'd be easy to alter, because firstly he was lazy and secondly he was shit at sewing.

Bucky stood up with the dress, hooking the halter neck strap over his head and laying the gown against him to get a look at it.

It'd look beautiful once it was on, he thought. He could picture it now: something classy, maybe with a blonde wig. A Marilyn Monroe number, perhaps. Steve had said he liked Some Like It Hot, maybe Bucky could do one of her songs from that.

That was, assuming Steve actually wanted to come to the club sometime and watch Bucky perform. A lot of people said they'd come to shows but not everyone did: it was just one of those things. Nightclubs weren't for everyone.

Neither was drag.

Bucky removed the dress and folded it back into the bag. He'd ask Steve about altering it once he came back. Bucky rummaged through his other bags, and was still rummaging when Steve returned, carrying two plates stacked full of sandwiches.

"Wow," Bucky said, as Steve set the sandwiches onto the coffee table. There was at least three full sandwiches on each plate, and Bucky noted the different kinds of brown and rye bread, and lots of meat filling.

Bucky wasn't used to hanging out with healthy people, or people who ate a lot. Not as much as Steve, anyway.

"Thanks," Bucky told Steve with a grin. "This will be brunch, lunch and dinner all in one."

Steve smiled back. "You want soda, coffee? Water?"

"Soda would be great."

Steve ran off to the kitchen again, coming back with tall glasses of soda. Then he sat next to Bucky on the couch and picked up a plate of sandwiches.

Bucky sat forward to pick up his own plate too. By the time he'd gotten it on his lap and picked up one half of a sandwich, Steve had demolished half his entire plate already.

Bucky watched curiously, and took a small bite of his sandwich. He chewed slowly and couldn't help watch Steve chow down on his food.

Before Bucky had even finished his first half sandwich, Steve's plate was empty. Then Steve glugged down his glass of soda.

"Let me guess," Bucky said, "fast metabolism?"

Steve nodded, looking a little shy. He gazed wistfully at his empty plate, like he wanted to eat more.

Bucky shifted closer and offered his plate. "Steve, why don't you have some of these sandwiches? I'll only eat one at most."

Steve looked at him in surprise. "Oh, no, I can make more, it's fine."

"There's no point making more when I can't eat all this." Bucky thrust his plate at Steve. "Please, I'm begging you. I'm on a diet, remember."

"Oh." Steve's look of mild surprise turned to shock, and a rosy blush tinted his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Bucky, I forgot."

"It's fine." Bucky smiled, endeared by how polite Steve was. "Just take the sandwiches, there's no point wasting them."

"Yeah, okay." Steve took two of the sandwiches, swiping them over to his plate.

Now Bucky had just the one sandwich, like a regular person, and Steve seemed happy chomping away on the other two sandwiches.

Once they'd both finished, Steve seemed more content and let out a sigh.

"Better?" Bucky asked, amused.

"Yeah." Steve smiled shyly. "Sorry, I didn't realise how hungry I was."

"Been working up your appetite shopping all morning," Bucky said, and went to collect Steve's plate.

Steve hung onto it and questioned, "What're you doing?"

"I was going to wash up," Bucky said, attempting to tug the plate from Steve's hands. "But if you don't let go, then I can't."

"No, I'll do that," Steve insisted, and took Bucky's plate instead. "You're a guest."

"I'm also your cleaner," Bucky pointed out, and kind of wished he hadn't the moment he'd said it.

Steve paused, then said firmly, "You're a guest." He stood up with the plates. "You relax. I'll be right back."

Bucky smiled as Steve marched away. This guy, he thought. Yes, that crush was well and truly settling in.

Bucky sipped at his soda, had forgotten to ask if it was diet soda, but oh well. He'd just have a cheat day. That's what it was called, right? Cheat days? Bucky could barely stick to a diet plan no matter how hard he tried, so most days were cheat days.

Steve came back in carrying two small plates. He had a pleased smile on his face as he sat back down, handing a plate over to Bucky.

It was a small slice of cake with white frosting.

"Uh, Steve, I'm on a diet," Bucky reminded him.

Steve's smile grew. "Yeah, but it's gluten free, sugar free, and dairy free. It's a healthy cake."

Bucky looked up at him in surprise. "Sugar free?"

"Yeah. And it's coconut flavor." Steve picked up his own slice and took a huge bite.

Bucky looked down at the cake in his plate. Sugar free? Seriously? What's the point of that, he wondered. But he didn't want to upset Steve, so he picked up the cake to try it.

He hummed in surprise. Okay, maybe it wasn't so bad. It was the first cake Bucky'd had in a while, so he ended up eating it all.

"Not bad," he said, and gave his empty plate over when Steve gestured for it.

Steve smiled brightly. "I'm glad you liked it."

"I don't know, _like_ is a bit strong, Steve." Bucky laughed. "It wasn't bad. But the whole point of eating cake is that it's sweet and naughty, right?"

Steve grinned at him. "I have regular cake in the cupboard?"

"Oh, God, no!" Bucky waved his hands and leaned back on the couch. "Don't tempt me. It's been too long."

"Because of the diet?"

"Well, yeah. Dresses aren't very forgiving, Steve."

"We can alter the dresses," Steve said, a determined look on his face.

Bucky had to laugh. "I still need to loose a few pounds," he said. "You're not a feeder, are you?"

"A what?" Steve's blond brows scrunched together in confusion.

"A feeder," Bucky clarified. "Someone who wants to feed me as I recline on the couch and stuff my face all day and night."

Steve's brows parted, and he blinked at Bucky in surprise. "I... no? I mean, not that I'm aware of? But I stuff my own face all day and night. Does that make me a feeder?"

"No, not the same thing." Bucky laughed. "Don't worry, I'm teasing you. Thank you for feeding me." He gave Steve a very comical wink, and it had the desired effect of making the big guy smile.

"So, do you want anything else?" Steve asked. "Or is that crossing the feeding line?"

Bucky cackled. "I'm good, but thanks."

 

 

After the lunch was done and they'd washed up, Steve inspected the tailor's dummy and adjusted it to a bigger size.

Bucky was embarrassed at first about his size, but watching Steve being all strong and competent about adjusting the dummy distracted him from his own hangups: biceps and sculpted chest bulging out from his Under Armor, Steve crouched on one knee to adjust the dummy, going by Bucky's measurements that he apparently knew by heart and getting the dummy to the right size.

Then he fetched the red dress they'd been working on, and put it onto the dummy.

There was something very seductive about a hot, competent guy on one knee, sewing a dress, Bucky decided. His heart was all a flutter.

"This will work great," Steve said, getting to his feet and standing back to admire the half finished dress. "Do you want to measure the bust today and we can work on that next?"

"I, oh." Bucky blushed at that. "I haven't brought my boobs with me."

Steve looked at him. "Huh?"

"I, uh. I wear a breastplate." Bucky smiled nervously. "For this act, anyway. They're fake boobs. The bust is pretty big."

"Oh." Steve nodded, like he understood. "Sure. Okay, we can do that next time? If you don't remember the measurements?"

Bucky shrugged. "Not offhand. I'm crap like that."

"No problem," Steve told him. "You still want a sweetheart neckline, right?"

"Can we put a halter neck on too?" Bucky asked. "Like that evening gown? It helps with the illusion."

"Sure, that's easy enough." Steve set his hands on his slim hips. "Do you, um, have any photos? From your show?"

Bucky's heart went _thump thump thump_.

"Yeah, I do." He took his phone out, fingers shaking a little as he unlocked the screen and went to his gallery. "I took a few last night, was going to put the good ones on Instagram later."

Bucky swiped through a lot of drunk selfies, wincing at the bad ones and avoiding those entirely. He found a good one of him in a blue sequin dress with his big brown wig on, and turned the screen to Steve. "Here."

Steve leaned in to look, and Bucky couldn't help watching Steve's face for his reaction.

Either Steve wasn't that impressed, or he was schooling his reaction: after a long lingering look at the photo, Steve gave Bucky a polite smile. "Your dress there looks great."

"It's, um, yeah, that's one of my good ones," Bucky said, and swiped through a couple more pictures. "Here."

Steve looked again, and of all the things he could say, Bucky wasn't expecting to hear him say, "Are you wearing padding here?"

"Um, yeah," Bucky said. "Helps balance out my figure."

"Would it be easier to put padding into your red dress as we make it?" Steve asked, gesturing with his thumb over at the tailor's dummy and their work in progress.

"Um..." Bucky looked at the dress, then looked at Steve. "Yes and no. I already have the padding, and once I have that on I can do dress changes without taking all that off. Um, in theory." He smiled shyly.

Steve smiled back at him. "Sure. Whatever's easiest for you. Did you say you're on Instagram?" He pulled out his cell phone.

"Yeah," Bucky said, watching as Steve unlocked his screen.

"Can I follow you? Or are you private?" Steve asked.

There went Bucky's heart again, _thump thump thump_.

"Oh, yeah, you can." Bucky smiled. "It's queen bucky, all one word."

Steve tapped on his phone, presumably looking for Bucky's Instragram account. Oh, God. Bucky hoped he liked it. The photos were mostly all drag shots, lots of selfies, and a few random out of drag photos with friends.

"Found you," Steve announced with a grin. "You like the boomerangs, huh?"

Bucky blushed. "Yeah, they're fun."

Steve must have opened up one of Bucky's posts, as he was staring at the screen. Bucky couldn't bear the mystery, and he leaned in to see which one it was.

"I, uh, I was a bit drunk there," Bucky explained, slightly embarrassed at the faces he was pulling on a boomerang video. He was in full drag in that one. It'd been from the weekend before last.

"You look incredible," Steve said matter of factly.

Bucky willed himself to stop blushing. "Thanks. Make-up can do wonders."

"It sure can." Steve smiled at him. "Helps being pretty anyway, which you are."

"Oh, Steve," Bucky replied, waving his hand and laughing. "Don't stop there. Keep going."

Steve laughed too. "Oh, come on. You know you're pretty."

Bucky shrugged. He was about two seconds away from running over to the couch and rolling around on the cushions from a mix of embarrassment and excitement. He decided to deflect and opened up Instagram on his phone.

"How about you, mister I look such a mess today," he said, looking at his notifications to find Steve's profile. "Any selfies on here?"

Steve chuckled. "No selfies. Natasha advised me against that."

"Natasha?"

"A friend," Steve clarified. "She helped me set up my page, told me what Instagram would be good for."

"Cool." Bucky found who he presumed to be Steve. "Brooklyn eighteen?"

Now it was Steve's turn to look bashful. "That's me."

Bucky looked at Steve's profile, which didn't give a lot of info, only that he was from Brooklyn and was interested in art.

One glance at the page told Bucky that he'd vastly underestimated Steve's artistic abilities.

"Holy shit," he murmured, scrolling down the posts of beautifully taken photographs of New York cityscapes, and shots of pencil sketches on paper. "Did you draw these?"

"Yeah."

"These are amazing, Steve." Bucky picked a post to look at: a still life color painting of fruit on a big easel. It looked very old school artist meets savvy Instagrammer. "Wait, is this here? In your apartment?" Bucky asked.

"No, I go to art classes," Steve explained. "I don't like the mess at home, so it's easier for me to do messy stuff in a class."

Bucky smiled fondly. He'd had a hunch that Steve was a bit of a neat freak, to say the least. "You should see my place," Bucky quipped, "it's such a mess. Clothes and make-up everywhere. It'd probably give you conniptions."

Steve laughed. "I don't mind other people's mess. That's different."

"If you say so." Bucky scrolled through more of Steve's page, curious. The shots of paintings standing on easels were really wonderful, and there were also posts of various sketchbook work in pencil: delicate, fine drawings, and a few comic type pictures too. Then there were all the photographs of New York city streets, and the Brooklyn bridge in the early morning sunrise.

Bucky got a bit immersed for a moment, and Steve seemed busy on his phone too. They stood there in companionable quiet looking at their phones, until Bucky got a flurry of notifications coming in. He checked them automatically, surprised to see it was a dozen likes from Steve, plus a couple comments on his photos.

The comments were brief but cute. One said, _this color really suits you!_ And the next one simply said, _a beautiful dame!_

Bucky burst out laughing, covering his mouth with his hand to stop the snorts.

"What?" Steve asked. "What's so funny?"

"You called me... a dame!" Bucky wheezed. "Oh, God!"

"I know it's not used any more," Steve said with a chuckle. "I was trying to be cute. Shall I edit it to broad?"

Bucky wheezed from laughing, and waved his hand at Steve to stop. "No, no. Dame is great, I like dame."

Steve smiled at him. "Me, too."

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Eight

 

 

 

 

As much as Steve would've liked Bucky to stay longer, he said he had to get home and get the cat food for his mom's cat.

Steve called him a cab, and made sure to pay for the ride so Bucky wouldn't need to. It'd been fun, spending time with Bucky. They said goodbye at the door and it was only a tiny bit awkward, with Bucky lingering a moment like he might impulsively lean in and hug Steve or something.

Steve never knew what to do in these situations, so he just stood there and smiled, and hoped it was okay.

Once Bucky had left, Steve received a text from him a few minutes later to say he was in his cab.

Steve smiled down at the message, then he spotted the little 'x' at the end. Not an emoji this time, but a classic 'x' kiss.

Was that better, Steve wondered. Was it more formal or more flirty? He really didn't know. He wasn't even sure how to reply to that, and deliberated for some time.

In the end, he replied with an 'x' at the end of his message too.

He liked Bucky, he really did. Steve just wasn't sure if Bucky would like him all that much if he got to know him. That's when things usually got awkward, in Steve's experience.

He sat on his couch and looked through more of Bucky's Instagram page. There were so many photos, and they all looked like Bucky was having a lot of fun. His bubbly personality really came through on camera. Steve wanted to comment on every single one and tell him how beautiful he looked, but even he knew that would come off as a bit too keen.

Instead, Steve liked a couple more posts, and scrolled through the rest. There were videos too, lots of Bucky inside a dark club having fun, and a couple of him onstage under spotlights. The quality of the footage wasn't amazing but it was okay.

Steve watched with interest, captivated by Bucky in drag. A lot of his looks had a classic, timeless quality to them, and some other looks were a little more colorful and outlandish.

There was a selfie of Bucky in a big, curly blonde wig, and wearing what looked like a long sleeve dress that had a seashell bra on the front. It was only a close up, so Steve's couldn't see the full length.

Steve preferred Bucky as a brunet, but he looked pretty as a blonde too.

Bucky had invited him to his next show, which was on Wednesday night. Steve was determined to go: barring any emergencies that called for the Avengers, Steve wanted to see Bucky in drag.

 

 

When Wednesday rolled around, it just so happened that it was also Steve's next scheduled cleaning date.

He'd arranged Wednesday and Thursday as personal leave from his Avengers duties, and as he'd be at home one of those days had to be his cleaning appointment with Bucky too.

Bucky chose the Wednesday, though Steve asked him if he wouldn't prefer Thursday so he wasn't rushing about before his show. Bucky assured him he'd be fine, he did shows on week nights all the time.

He arrived on time for the appointment, just a little after midday, and Steve let him in the door.

"Hi," he greeted, smiling automatically.

Bucky smiled back at him, standing there holding all his cleaning bags. "Hey. You still coming tonight, right?" He came in the apartment, and toed off his shoes.

Steve shut the door after him. "I definitely am."

"Awesome." Bucky shot him a happy grin. "Kamala's offered to drive you, as she'll come right by here on her way to pick me up."

"Oh," Steve said, pleasantly surprised. "Is she sure? I can get a cab, it's not a problem."

"Driving together is half the fun." Bucky winked at him, making Steve blush instantly. "Besides, Bobby won't be here so there's more room in the car. He's gone away with his boyfriend so we can all have a break from hearing about said boyfriend."

Steve chuckled. "Is it really that bad?"

"Eh." Bucky made a face. "I'm sick of hearing about loved up couples and their boring stories."

Steve nodded in understanding. "Yes, I feel that."

"Anyway, we'll have a blast!" Bucky clapped his hands together in glee. "Also, I brought you a gift."

"You did?" Steve was surprised, but when Bucky presented him with the gift he laughed: a brand new fake mustache, in light brown. "Thank you," Steve told him. "I'll treasure it."

"You gonna wear a ball cap?" Bucky asked. "If you put this mustache on too, and it's just easy peel by the way, you could wear a check shirt and slay as a hot trucker. Rather than, you know..." Bucky waved his hand in the air between them, gesturing at Steve. "This superhero realness."

"Realness?" Steve asked, fighting another blush (though he appreciated Bucky's compliments).

"The look," Bucky explained, very seriously. "Hot trucker, Steve. Not superhero. Got it?"

"Got it." Steve smiled. "I have a couple check shirts."

"Of course you do." Bucky smiled back.

Steve could've stood there all day smiling at Bucky, but he changed the subject before he blushed himself into oblivion. "Um, don't you need your red dress? We haven't had time for another fitting."

"Oh, it's fine." Bucky waved a hand. "That act needs more work anyway. Tonight I'm just doing acts that I could do drunk and blindfolded."

"That makes sense," Steve said. "What acts are you doing?"

"I'm doing Mermaids Cher, and a Grease number with my friend Doms."

Steve didn't know any of those references, but he nodded along. "Right," he said, probably not very convincingly because Bucky snickered.

"Here," he said, getting out his phone. He brought up some videos on YouTube, showing Steve a musical number from a movie first. "I'll be Sandy," Bucky pointed to the woman with blonde hair. "Doms is a drag king and she's playing Danny."

Steve liked the song, it was fun. He'd have to make a note to watch the movie later, before the show.

"And then," Bucky said, looking through more vidoes, "I'll be Cher from Mermaids singing the Shoop song." He played a video for Steve, of a woman belting out a number with an amazing voice.

"I like it," Steve told him. "Can't wait to see."

Bucky looked up at him smiling, and Steve smiled back. They stared at each other a moment too long for it to be casual: Steve definitely noticed that.

Bucky looked away first and locked his phone. "Anyway, I better get on with your cleaning or I'll run late."

"Sorry," Steve said. "I'll, um, get out of your way."

"Go find your check shirts," Bucky instructed, as he picked up his cleaning bags. "I want to vet them first."

Steve shook his head with a chuckle. "Alright."

 

 

Steve tried to let Bucky do his job, but he did as he'd been instructed and found the check shirts he had.

Bucky hummed over the choices, tapping his chin, before choosing the blue check shirt, asking Steve to pair it with dark jeans or pants, and definitely the cap and fake mustache.

Steve was excited about it, and couldn't wait for this evening. They chatted a little more, Steve hovering near Bucky as he worked. Bucky seemed happy to chat, telling Steve about the club, how it was smaller than his weekend ones but he liked it because the staff were nice and the audience was usually very supportive.

Steve remembered going into gay bars back in his neighborhood, but it'd all been in secret and you had to know somebody to get in or find out where they were. They'd had to cover their backs, as it'd been illegal. The experience of being in that environment, of being among his peers, though, was exhilarating, and something Steve would never forget.

"Kamala will come by around seven thirty," Bucky told him as he was finishing up. "Is that cool with you?"

"Absolutely," Steve agreed. "Looking forward to it."

Bucky grinned at him as he put his shoes back in. "Me, too." He picked up his bags and lingered a moment, looking at Steve. "I'll, um, I'll see you later then!"

Steve smiled back at him. "See you later, Bucky."

"Remember to address me as Queen Bucky."

"Okay," Steve said, making Bucky laugh.

"I was joking, but alright," Bucky said, grinning mischievously. "Bye, Steve. Don't forget the mustache!"

"I won't. Bye." He shut his door after Bucky, and stood there a moment by himself just smiling.

 

~

 

By seven PM, Steve was ready in the outfit (and fake mustache) that Bucky had told him to wear.

He paced his apartment anxiously, then decided to go downstairs and wait for Kamala there. He figured he could test out his disguise too, if anyone walked by.

At seven twenty-eight, a navy SUV pulled up. Steve approached the vehicle, unsure if it was Kamala or not. Then the driver's window rolled down and Kamala was there, laughing hard.

"That mustache looks so real!" she wheezed, leaning onto the steering wheel as she laughed.

Steve smiled wryly. "Great, then it's doing its job," he said, and went around to the passenger side. He got into the seat and handed a twenty over to Kamala.

"What's this?" she asked, wiping a tear from her eye.

"For gas," Steve said. "I appreciate the ride."

"Oh, Steve, it's fine." Kamala tried to give him the twenty back. "It's my mom's car, I'm just borrowing it."

Steve held up his hands, refusing to take the money back. "I insist."

"Aw, you're so nice." Kamala relented, and pocketed the money. "Wow, I'm not used to anyone paying the gas _and_ being on time. This is like an alternate reality."

Steve had to laugh at that. "Will Bucky not be on time?"

"Hm, well." Kamala pulled a face as she drove back out into the street. "Let's go see."

They chatted on the way uptown to Bucky's, about movies and clubs, and Kamala's favorite music genres. Steve was always looking for more recommendations.

When they turned onto a very nice avenue, Kamala said they were almost at Bucky's. It was very pretty, with old, picturesque brownstones and trees lining the street.

The street lights had started coming on as the light faded, and Steve looked out the window to see if Bucky was waiting anywhere.

"Can you park outside?" he asked.

"Yeah, but not for too long," Kamala said, slowing the car. "This is his. If he's not out in ten minutes, I go park round the block."

"I'll go help him," Steve offered, and got out the car.

"Good luck!" Kamala called out the open window. "It's that one right there."

Steve jogged up the steps to the brownstone, and pressed on the bell. He was expecting Bucky to answer it, so it was a bit of a surprise to see an older woman open the door.

She looked surprised to see him too, then she broke into a friendly smile. "Steve?" she said, and Steve recognised the voice.

"Winnie." Steve smiled, and offered out his hand. "A pleasure to meet you in person."

"Ooh!" Winnie laughed, and shook Steve's hand eagerly. "The pleasure is all mine, Steve. Won't you come on in?"

"Oh, um, we're waiting..." Steve gestured behind him to where Kamala was still parked outside.

"Oh, sure! I forgot." Winnie waved her hands about in a flutter, in much the same manner Steve had seen Bucky do. "In that case, Steve, you must come round for coffee some time."

"Thank you." Steve blushed, shifting from foot to foot. "That would be great."

There was a bustling noise from upstairs, and Bucky's voice called, "Mom, leave him alone!"

Winnie laughed, and winked conspiratorially at Steve. "He told me you're going to see him perform! You're gonna love it! My boy is wonderful."

Steve grinned at that. "I'm sure he is."

Bucky came down the staircase, struggling with a suitcase and two large laundry bags. Steve stepped in to help, taking the case and bags from Bucky.

"Oh, thanks." Bucky looked up at him, and he already had make-up on his face. Steve paused in surprise, looking at Bucky.

He didn't look _too_ different, and yet it was just enough to be different. Bucky clearly had skin color make-up all over his face, with blusher on the cheeks and a pearly effect all over to even it out. He had dark make-up around his eyes too, and bold triangles of white and grey on the eyelids.

"Don't look at me," Bucky declared with a laugh. "I haven't even blended yet!" He pushed lightly at Steve's shoulder to get him going. "C'mon, let's scram!"

"Oh, sorry," Steve murmured, and almost tripped over his own feet as he was ushered out the door. "Bye, Winnie!" he called back.

"Yes, bye, Mom," Bucky said, as Winnie waved them off at the door.

"Have fun, boys!" she called.

"Hey, the mustache looks good," Bucky said quietly to Steve as they walked down the steps to the car.

Steve grinned at him. "Thanks. Maybe I'll grow my own one day." Bucky cackled a laugh, and they put his bags into the trunk. "Did you want to sit up front?" Steve asked him.

"Yeah, I gotta beat my face," Bucky said, as Steve frowned in confusion. "Thanks, Steve!" He got into the passenger side, so Steve got into the back of the car.

Kamala was staring at Bucky with raised eyebrows. "I cannot, literally _cannot_ believe you are ready on time."

"Just drive, would you?" Bucky replied, getting out a small make-up bag and pulling down the overhead mirror. "We're gonna be late."

Kamala scoffed. "It's usually me saying that to you and Bobby."

Bucky laughed, and Steve smiled as he watched the exchange. Bucky started to do his make-up in the mirror, and he caught Steve looking at him. He smiled. "Ready for a big gay night out, Steve?" he asked.

Steve smiled back. "You bet."

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with my wip!!
> 
> I only have 1 more chapter then an epilogue to go, I swear. haha...
> 
> Oh, and if you enjoy drag queen bucky, maybe you'd also enjoy my short fic [mister congeniality](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18988546).


	9. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up for: 
> 
> club life stuff such as, having a quick cigarette, a heckler outside. All brief and over quickly.
> 
> Btw, if you never saw Mermaids, this is the Cher look Bucky is doing: [here](https://66.media.tumblr.com/5194965809c135a8d0c9e8f1de2b4944/345ba1063880b27e-c5/s540x810/1bb70bd109c982321c84112a3dfef502a61edca7.jpg). And Cher's cover of The Shoop Song is [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yCpKQjqb8Y4).
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> ~~

 

 

 

Bucky took a deep breath and opened up his make-up bag.

He'd done most of his face already, if a little hurriedly in the car, but now he had to finish up as he was due onstage in a half hour and he still had to get into drag.

He looked in the mirror as he applied glittery eyeshadow with a brush, and that's when Domino and Wade slid in either side of him. Bucky eyed them both in the mirror with their shit-eating grins.

"What?" he said, playing it cool as he applied the glitter. He knew what they were grinning about.

Wade was already in drag, dressed up like Dolly Parton, but Domino was only half dressed. They exchanged a look, then kept on grinning at Bucky.

"Did you bring a date?" Wade asked in a stage whisper. "Or is that handsome hunk out there with Kamala?"

Bucky tried to keep from smiling. "He's our friend."

Domino rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. Are you on a date or not?"

"I'm not sure," Bucky answered, swiping glitter over his eyelids. "Now if you two don't mind, I'm busy."

"If I may," Wade leaned in and rifled through Bucky's make-up bag. "Go for a wet look lip. Irresistible."

"I was gonna do glitter," Bucky whined. "Glitter is my look!"

Wade dangled the lip gloss pen in front of Bucky's face. "But if you want to look more kissable, then wet look."

"I agree." Domino nodded decisively. "Wet look."

Bucky huffed, but he took the lip gloss. "I'll think about it. Now get lost, I gotta get my padding on."

"He's tetchy," Wade stage whispered to Domino. "Probably nervous because of the hot date."

Bucky rolled his eyes, but couldn't help a smile. Wade was his drag mom, and Domino was his drag sibling. They were close friends, and he didn't mind them teasing him a little.

Wade was right though, Bucky _was_ nervous. He just hoped Steve enjoyed the performance.

 

~~

 

Steve went unrecognised in the crowd, which was a relief.

He sat at a small table with Kamala, just to the side of the stage. All the tables were small and the place was tightly packed, the audience buzzing with chat and lots of laughter already. Steve spent quite a bit of time people watching, his eyes drawn to so many things at once: what they wore, how they did their hair, and the wide variety of people here. Some of them wore rainbow patches, buttons and pins that his eyes picked up. A few people with glittery make-up too.

It made Steve smile. He felt happy here in the club, he felt at home.

Kamala was nursing a soda, while Steve had a bottle of water. She pointed out a friend of hers making their way among the patrons with a plastic bucket.

"That's Domino," Kamala explained, getting out her wallet. "They usually send one of the performers out to collect for charity."

"Oh," Steve said, and quickly pulled his wallet out too.

Domino came over to their table, and at first Steve wasn't sure of their gender as they seemed very androgynous: tight pants and an open waistcoat with an apparent flat chest, and big hair and the barest hint of a mustache.

Then Steve recalled that Bucky had told him about their friend who performed as a drag king. Steve smiled politely as he offered a few bills for the charity bucket.

Domino smiled back at him. There was a white ring around their left eye, dusted with a little glitter. Domino quickly leaned down to exchange a cheek kiss with Kamala.

"Enjoy the show, guys," Domino said, before moving off into the crowd.

"Bye, Doms!" Kamala said.

In a few minutes the show was ready to start, and Steve could barely contain himself.

The red curtain pulled back and two MC's introduced themselves: a male and female drag pair who did a little comedy skit while welcoming the audience and teasing what would be in store for the night.

Then the first act was on, a drag queen lip syncing to a very upbeat pop song that Steve had never heard. It was very fast paced, and when the first queen was done the MC's came back to the stage to do another bit and introduce the next act.

To Steve's surprise, Kamala patted his arm excitedly and whispered, "Bucky's next!"

Steve watched with anticipation as the lights cut off everywhere except one spotlight, highlighting a queen with big blonde hair. The song started almost immediately, with a big voice belting out a cappella and the queen lip syncing along to it.

As the music and chorus broke, the lights went up and Steve watched Bucky walk out into the lights: he had on a huge blonde wig with pearls and combs stuck in it, a white pearly top with pink seashells for the bra, and his dress at the bottom half was a shimmering green mermaid tail.

There was a small slit in the front of the skirt so Bucky could walk, and he wore big green glittery high heels. The tail for the mermaid skirt was tied to a cuff on his wrist so he held it above the ground as he walked. It was a real fun outfit, Steve loved it.

And Bucky's performance was wonderful, the lip syncing spot on. Steve watched, mesmerised, as Bucky put his all into the song, swishing about the stage in his mermaid tail and miming the words.

Next to him, Kamala was swaying in her seat and singing along to the chorus. "It's there in his kiss!" she sang, making Steve smile.

During a part of the song with no words, Bucky did some cute improv with adjusting his seashell bra and pulling faces at the audience, making them laugh. He shuffled around the stage, playing up the fact he could barely walk in the split fishtail skirt, pretending to almost lose his balance as the miming started back up and he lip synced to it.

Steve was thoroughly charmed, and Bucky seemed a natural onstage. When Bucky's song was over, Steve applauded along with the audience and he whistled loudly. "Yeah!" he shouted. "Awesome!"

Bucky blew a few kisses to the crowd, grinning happily. His eyes landed on Steve and lingered a moment, and Steve gazed back at him. Bucky had a lot of make-up on, with a shimmery finish around the eyes. He looked very pretty, even if Steve did prefer him brunet.

Bucky left the stage, and the MC's came back on.

Kamala was busy texting, and told Steve that her friend might come down to the club too.

They watched and applauded a few more acts. Steve couldn't believe how much variety there was, and how wonderful all the tailoring looked on the queens. He even got a few ideas for Bucky's dress, when they next worked on it.

Then Domino came onstage dressed like a biker, in black leather and slicked back, teddy boy hair (probably a wig, but it looked really good). The number was about being stranded at a drive in, and Steve recognised it from the Grease movie he'd watched. Domino did a great job of lamenting dramatically over Sandy, lip syncing perfectly.

When it was over, the audience cheered and Domino bowed for them. Instead of the MC's coming onstage to introduce the next act, a drag queen joined Domino onstage, walking into the spotlight: she was dressed in an enormous blonde wig and a candystripe dress that almost covered her head to toe.

Steve realised it was Bucky when the queen smiled, and Steve grinned as he watched them perform. Bucky started lip syncing to the slow version of Sandra D, lamenting his choice of clothes and indicating to Domino and the dress. Domino came back into the spotlight and played along, helping Bucky rip the dress away as Bucky mimed a grimace.

The reveal underneath was form fitting shiny black pants, and a black bustier. Bucky was very curvy in the pants, and the audience whistled.

"Tell me about it, stud," Bucky mimed as a new song started up.

The audience started clapping, clearly happy with the choice. Domino and Bucky performed together, lip syncing a lot of "Ooh, Ooh-Ooh's" and dancing around each other on the stage.

Steve loved watching their energy, and with Domino doing knee drops and sliding along the stage energetically while Bucky posed up a storm in his high heels.

When it was over Steve clapped hard along with the audience. He was having the most fun he could remember having.

 

During a short interval, a couple more queens came around the audience with pots for charity, and Steve was ready this time with his wallet.

Kamala explained that her friend had arrived in the club, and she wanted to go find her at the bar.

"You'll be alright for a minute, Steve?" she asked. "Or you can come with me?"

"Oh, I'm fine here," he insisted, smiling at her. "You go and chat to your friend. Don't worry about me."

"Cool," she said, and got up. "Bucky might come out and say hi anyway, he usually does."

"Oh," Steve said, as Kamala hurried off. "That's good to know," he murmured to himself, and immediately started scanning the audience for Bucky.

The clubs lights made it harder to spot someone from a distance, and Steve was looking for a blonde head of hair.

"Excuse me," said a voice to his right, "do you come here often?"

Steve turned to see Bucky, still in his tight black Sandra D outfit, but now with a long brown wig on and topped off with a big red bow.

"Hey," Steve said, breaking into a smile. "I thought you were blonde."

Bucky smiled back, his lips shining in the club lights. "I'm half ready for my next act, but I got time for some, uh, fresh air."

"Oh?"

Bucky held up a packet of cigarettes. "Bad habit. I get nervous."

"Oh, fresh air." Steve chuckled. "Want some company?" Bucky nodded, so Steve got up and offered his arm out to him.

"Such a gentleman," Bucky said, taking his arm.

"My mom raised me right," Steve said, escorting Bucky through the club.

"She sure did," he agreed. "Speaking of moms, Winnie texted me, like, _three times_ singing your praises. Think you have a new fan."

Steve laughed, though he felt a little embarrassed. "Three times, huh?"

"Yeah." Bucky turned a smile on him as they reached the stairs for the exit. "She thought you were very charming."

"I won't be able to look her in the eye now," Steve said, only half joking.

Bucky threw his head back and laughed, and Steve held onto him securely as they climbed the steps together, Bucky's high heels clomping loudly on each step.

At the door, Bucky greeted the bouncers by name and exchanged a few words. They seemed pleasant, holding the door open for him. Steve thanked them too, and followed Bucky out into the cold evening air.

The smoking area was in the small alley next to the club: cordoned off with barriers bearing the club's logo. A few patrons were already there braving the elements in their clubwear, huddled together and smoking.

Bucky took out a cigarette and lit up. He offered the packet to Steve. "You want one? Or are you super healthy?"

"I'll take one," Steve said, feeling like it. Bucky held the lighter up for him and Steve cupped it as he lit up. "Thank you."

"No problem." Bucky smiled at him before putting the cigarette to his shiny lips and inhaling. "How'd you like the show?"

"Loved it," Steve replied, totally honest. "Best night of my life."

Bucky exhaled smoke on a laugh, and held his cigarette up in one hand, crossing his other arm under his boobs. "I'm so glad to hear it."

Steve's eyes had drifted down to Bucky's cleavage. He couldn't help it, Bucky's movement had sort of drawn his attention there. When Steve glanced up, he knew Bucky had caught him looking.

"Is, um, is this the breastplate?" he asked.

Bucky's smile turned mischievous. "Why, yes, it is. Wanna feel?"

"Wouldn't that be rude?" Steve asked but, yes, he did want to feel.

"They're not real, Steve," Bucky said dryly. He leaned in close. "Go ahead."

"Okay..." Steve gingerly reached a hand out, curious. As soon as his fingers brushed the nearest boob Bucky yelled, "Aaah!", startling Steve into drawing his hand back.

Bucky laughed loudly, and Steve shook his head.

"Very funny," Steve said.

"Sorry, sorry," Bucky snort-laughed. "Couldn't help myself. "Go on. I won't scream"

"No, it's fine," Steve said. "I've had enough heart attacks for one night."

"Steve, go on," Bucky insisted. "Touch my boobs."

They must've gotten a little loud, as a couple guys walking past the mouth of the alley heard them. The men paused briefly to jeer, and Steve's hackles instantly rose. He didn't even hear what they said, as they didn't have the courage to say it clearly before walking off again.

"Hey, dickwads!" Bucky leaned across the barrier and yelled after them. "Keep walkin'!"

Steve looked at him, impressed. "Nice," he said.

Bucky shrugged a shoulder, and took another drag of his cigarette. "Morons," he muttered.

"They are," Steve agreed. "Their loss."

Bucky smiled at him, and he seemed a little shy now. "Sorry, I tend to yell back at critics."

"Don't apologise," Steve said. "You beat me to it."

This earned him a proper smile as Bucky looked at him. "You'd back me up, right? I mean, I'm great at yelling but not so much at fighting."

Steve smiled proudly. "I'd be honored to fight for you, Buck."

"Awesome," Bucky said. "But don't tell Winnie, she worries."

"My lips are sealed."

They spent a moment gazing at each other smiling, and were interrupted when a bouncer stuck his head out the door.

"Um, the show's starting," he said.

Bucky cursed under his breath and quickly stubbed his cigarette out. "Help me downstairs?"

Steve stubbed out his cigarette too, and offered his arm again. "At your service, ma'am."

 

 

 

 

 


	10. Ten

 

 

 

 

The rest of the show was just as wonderful, and Steve was sat back at his table with Kamala and her friend Riri.

They applauded and whistled, and when the main show was over they waited for Bucky to come join them.

"Is there more drag?" Steve asked over the noise of the pumping club music.

"Not here," Kamala said, "it's dancing now. But sometimes the queens go to another club and perform there for a later show."

"Oh," Steve said, pleasantly surprised.

When Bucky came out into the audience, he was carrying his case and bag. Steve got up to take the bags from him, and Bucky gave him a shy smile.

"Thanks," he said. He was still in full drag, but wearing flip flops now instead of heels.

"So what's the plan?" Steve asked.

"Um, well, Wade and Doms are going to another club three blocks down," Bucky explained. "I can go with them and do a couple lip syncs. You wanna come?"

"Yeah, of course," Steve agreed, carrying the bags.

Bucky went to speak with Kamala: it turned out she was going to stay with Riri, but Bucky said they could ride with Wade and he'd give them a lift home after too.

"Have fun!" Kamala said, waving them off.

Steve nodded polite to her and Riri as they left, Bucky leading the way.

Apparently Wade and Domino were already outside, so they exited the club and looked around for where Wade was parked.

"Is there room for all of us?" Steve asked, as they approached the SUV.

"Yeah, unless Wade brought fifty cases," Bucky quipped, tapping on the window. "Let us in!"

The window rolled down and a man's face clean of make-up grinned at them. "Well, hello, children," he said, affecting a soft voice. "Hop on in with mama Wade."

Domino was in the passenger seat, but she got out to help Steve load Bucky's bags into the back.

"Welcome to the drag family," she said, winking at Steve.

"Thanks," Steve replied, quietly thrilled.

He got into the backseat with Bucky, who grunted at little as he sat down.

"You okay?" Steve asked, checking on him.

"Never better," Bucky insisted, but Domino and Wade laughed.

"His tuck is _fierce_ tonight," Wade said, starting the car.

It took Steve a moment to realise what that meant, then he winced. "Ouch," he murmured.

Bucky nodded. "I'm fine. The sooner I can be standing up, the better."

"Why don't you lay flat?" Steve suggested, but Bucky laughed.

"It's only three blocks, Steve. I'll live. I do this every week."

"You're the professional," Steve conceded.

They arrived at the next club, and Wade let them out near the door with all the cases before he went off to park the car.

Steve carried a few cases at once, with Domino giving him an impressed look. "Damn, son," she said approvingly. "You can come again!"

"It's nothing," Steve said. "I'm happy to help."

Bucky and Domino led him into the club, avoiding the main room and into a service hallway.

"In here," Domino said, holding open a door covered in stickers and lipstick kisses.

Steve carried the bags inside the small backstage room. Domino started to take hers and Wade's bags down a hallway, and Steve offered to help but Bucky said only performers were allowed down there.

When Domino came back she made eyes at Bucky and said, "Gasp! Namor's here!"

"Thank God Daken and Bobby aren't," Bucky replied, and smiled side long at Steve. "You wanna hang out here? This is the green room."

"Oh, I don't want to get in the way," Steve said, but Bucky shook his head.

"You won't. Besides," he batted his big dark eyelashes at Steve, "you can keep me company."

"Well, if you insist," Steve said, hiding a grin.

 

 

Steve loved being backstage.

He figured he was in the middle of it all, with the dressing rooms all down the hall to his right, and the stage doors over to his left.

The stage doors were painted black, and big and heavy to cancel out noise but it was easy enough to hear what was happening onstage: currently a comedy duo, judging by the laughs from the audience.

Inside the green room was a table with water bottles and a few snacks, and a battered old couch to the side. The floor was kept clear for performers to walk on and offstage, and often they crowded by the door before they were due on to peep under the window curtain.

Another guy dressed in casual wear joined Steve and introduced himself as Ric. He plopped down onto the couch and said he was Shatterstar's husband.

Steve presumed that was one of the performers. He smiled back and introduced himself, saying he was with Bucky.

Ric's eyebrows flicked up with interest, and Steve realised he may have stumbled into that.

"I mean, we're friends," Steve tried, but Ric winked at him.

"Sure, _friends_. I get it."

The greenroom soon got busy with queens bustling in wearing high heels and outlandish outfits. As they were in a rush to get onstage, most of them ignored Steve and Ric, hurrying to get through the doors and remembering all their props or lines.

But a couple of the ladies stopped dead when they saw Steve.

"Well, well," one exclaimed, looking Steve up and down. "The trade is here."

"Leave him alone," Bucky said, coming into the room. "Don't scare the poor guy off."

Steve smiled shyly, relieved when Bucky came in to save him.

"Would you help me out?" he asked, waving his arm bearing the mermaid tail. "I got a little tangled."

Steve gently untangled the mer-tail, making sure it hung nicely from Bucky's wrist.

"Awesome, thank you." Bucky flicked his blonde hair back. "You can stay backstage, or if you want to watch the show just go through this door we came in and around the hall to the right, and you can see the stage from there."

Steve smiled at him. "Thanks. I might do that."

"God, it's hot in here!" Wade announced loudly, strolling in wearing a cowgirl's outfit covered in tassels. "Guess who?" he asked, posing for Steve's benefit.

"Um, Dolly Parton?" he said, but only because Bucky had already given him a clue.

"Boy howdy, that's right!" Wade slapped his own thigh. "Takes a lot of money to look this cheap."

"Better haul your ass onstage," Bucky told him. "You're on."

"I'm going." Wade winked at them both. "You kids have fun."

He strode through the stage doors with a flourish. Bucky rolled his eyes.

"He seems nice," Steve said, which made Bucky smile.

"Yeah, he's great," Bucky said. "He's desperate to tease me about you though."

"Oh?"

"He thinks we're dating." Bucky looked at Steve for a moment before looking away, his big false eyelashes sweeping down.

"Oh," Steve said, stumped. "Is that good or bad?"

Bucky looked up, searching Steve's eyes. "You tell me."

Steve wished he could explain to Bucky how useless he was at this stuff, but that would take too long and he figured being honest was the best approach.

"I figured," he started, leaning in a little, "that tonight was like a date? Sort of? A pre date?"

Bucky smiled. He looked pleased, and Steve smiled back at him. "Okay," he said softly. "That's sort of what I thought too."

"Great," Steve said, happy. He was very happy, thrilled even. "That's great."

"You want to get a drink after the show?" Bucky asked. "I mean, doesn't have to be alcohol if that's not your thing."

"I can't get drunk anyway," Steve said, "but I'd love to get a drink with you."

Bucky grinned, and started fussing with his hair. "Okay," he said, shyer than usual. Steve wondered if he was blushing under all that make-up.

"You look really great tonight," Steve told him, unable to hold it in.

"Oh, stop," Bucky laughed, waving his hands. "No, go on."

They laughed together, then Domino bounded up to them and planted a kiss on Bucky's cheek.

"Jesus," Bucky exclaimed, "you scared the shit out of me."

"Jumpy much?" she said, sounding amused. Then she looked between the two of them and her eyes widened. "Oh, shit, sorry! Didn't mean to interrupt!" She bounced away, diving onto the couch and sliding onto Ric's lap instead.

"You guys seem close," Steve noted, as Bucky got out a compact to check his face.

"Yeah, like siblings," he muttered. "Like I don't have enough of those already." He smiled wryly at Steve. "I'm on in a hot second anyway."

Steve nodded, and gestured to the door. "I'll go watch?"

"Sure." Bucky shooed him off. "If you go past the bar on your way back, I'd love a mojito."

Steve saluted. "Got it. Break a leg."

 

Steve watched Bucky perform onstage.

From the bar at the back of the club he had a pretty good view, and he enjoyed watching Bucky.

When it was over Steve applauded until Bucky left the stage, shimmying carefully in his mermaid tail. Then Steve queued up at the bar to order Bucky's drink.

He felt so elated: he had a _date_. He was _on_ a date.

And it was all going so well, Steve thought. He liked Bucky, and Bucky seemed to like him. It felt good, felt right.

Steve ordered the mojito, and a light beer for himself. As he held the drinks and left the bar, a thought occurred to Steve and managed to kill his buzz.

He was going to have to tell Bucky the truth about him, before things went any further. Steve knew what other people's expectations of him were, and the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint Bucky.

People usually were disappointed in him, though.

 

 

 


	11. Eleven

 

 

 

The show was great, and everyone was in a good mood.

Steve had ended up helping a couple of queens with their costumes backstage, after an emergency situation had called for a quick pinning of a dress. Steve had stepped in, and after solving that problem he soon had a line of queens asking for his help.

Bucky had laughed about it, and he didn't seem to mind. He'd been busy either getting changed in the dressing room, or going to and from the stage to perform. He'd definitely hovered though, Steve had noticed: like he wanted the other queens to know Steve was with him.

Steve was flattered, he really was.

Now the show was done, the club played some chilled out lounge music for the patrons still sitting and drinking at their tables, and it was much more Steve's speed.

There was a small dance floor to the side with a disco ball, and some couples were slow dancing. Steve watched, sitting at a table by himself and waiting for Bucky to join him.

He had a new mojito ready, and a soda for himself. Steve drummed his fingers on his leg, a little nervous. He had no idea how it'd go if he was honest with Bucky tonight, but he knew from experience that the longer he drew things out it only caused more heartache later down the line.

Why couldn't things be simple, he wondered, watching the couples slow dancing. Why couldn't he just be like them? All Steve had wanted, all of his life was to be normal, to fit in.

He still couldn't manage that even now, and he wasn't sure how to feel about that some days.

Bucky appeared through the crowd, approaching his table. Steve almost did a double take, as he was out of drag now and in casual clothes: jeans, flip-flops, a rainbow-dyed t-shirt and his natural hair loose about his face.

"Hey," he said, pulling up a chair and moving it closer to Steve.

"Hey." Steve smiled at him at Bucky sat down. "I was expecting a lady," he joked, sliding the mojito over to him.

Bucky laughed. "Yeah, she's gone to bed. You got me instead, I'm afraid."

"I'm happy with that," Steve said. Bucky looked pretty like this too, his hair all wavy and a hint of dark eyeliner still around his eyes. "The show was great," Steve told him.

"I'm happy you liked it," Bucky said, sipping his drink delicately. "Does it compare to what you're used to?"

"It's different," Steve said, "like, bigger, more colorful, perhaps. But so much is similar too. The spirit is the same, and that's what I like."

Bucky smiled at him. "So you'll come again?"

"I'd love to."

"Everyone likes you," Bucky said. "You're a hit backstage."

Steve blushed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to jump in like that."

"Don't be silly, you helped out loads," Bucky said. "Steve the seamstress."

Steve laughed. "I'm used to helping out. I was a plant in the audience a couple times too."

Bucky's eyes went wide. "Really? Like, how?"

"Whatever was needed," Steve shrugged, "it was very ad lib. Of course, I was a lot smaller then, so often I was often used as a joke. The audience expected a big guy and instead I'd stand up."

"Aw," Bucky said. "Small Steve with his floppy bangs."

Steve laughed again. "Look. We talked about that."

Bucky smiled over the rim of his drink, taking a sip. "Say, speaking of plants... would you wanna do that for me sometime?"

"If you give me some idea what I'm gonna be doing," Steve said, though he knew he'd likely say yes anyway.

"You watched Roger Rabbit, right?" Bucky asked. "For my Jessica Rabbit act, I could go into the audience, maybe sit on your lap and mess with you a bit."

Steve's face must've shown shock, or something, as Bucky quickly back tracked.

"Or not!" he said hurriedly, waving his hand. "We don't have to do that."

"No, I don't mind," Steve said. "I, um, I'd like that."

Bucky looked at him with a confused frown. "You sure? You went white as a sheet just then."

"Yeah, I just... I was surprised."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, not convinced. "Okay. Well, we can talk about it another time. We haven't even finished the dress yet."

"Sure," Steve agreed. "I really would like to be your plant, Buck. I could wear a suit and hat?"

"Maybe a thin and sleek mustache," Bucky laughed, eyeing Steve's current mustache.

"Yes, this one's a bit big," Steve said, reaching up to feel it.

"Did the job though." Bucky finished off his drink. "I don't think anyone recognised you."

"Or next time I can come in drag?" Steve teased, making Bucky chuckle.

"No, I like you all manly," Bucky said, and patted Steve's arm.

"I like you any way," Steve countered, making Bucky blush.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Bucky replied.

Steve smiled.

Then he realised as they were flirting quite a bit now, he should probably say something. He sighed, looking down at the table. "Buck, I... there's something I need to tell you."

Bucky went quiet, waiting. Steve felt his heartrate pick up, worried about the outcome. "I, well," he started, "I like you a lot. I do. I need to tell you something about me before we... go any further, I guess."

"Okay," Bucky said softly. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. It's okay."

Steve was surprised, and it gave him the courage to be open. He nodded, and said, "I'm Asexual."

There, he'd said it.

Bucky was quiet a moment, and Steve wondered if he knew what it meant. He'd only discovered the term himself recently, putting a word to how he'd felt his whole life. It was a relief, in a way, to know that it wasn't just him, but that other people felt the same way.

"Oh," Bucky said finally, shifting in his seat. "Not what I'd expected. I thought you were going to tell me you were straight."

Steve looked up at him. "No, I'm biromantic."

"Oh," Bucky said again, blinking as he took that in. "Oh, I see. So, you... do you date?"

"Yes, I want a romantic relationship," Steve said, bearing his whole heart. "Everything except... you know..."

"Sex?" Bucky finished, and nodded. "I get it. I have Ace friends."

"You do?" Steve was surprised again.

"Yeah," Bucky said. "One is grey ace, the other is like, no sex at all ace." He looked at Steve. "If you don't mind me asking, are you a no sex at all ace?"

Steve nodded. "I think so. It's just not something I want to do."

"Okay," Bucky said, nodding again. "I get it, totally valid."

They sat together in silence, both digesting.

Bucky broke the silence first and said, "So..."

Steve waited.

"So, what sort of relationship do you want?" Bucky asked. "Like, describe it to me?"

"Oh, boy," Steve said, but he was feeling hopeful about this. "I thought, companionship, doing things together. Hanging out. Couple type things, I guess."

"What about touching and kissing?" Bucky asked.

"I like those," Steve admitted. "As long as the expectation isn't sex at the end."

"Yeah, fair," Bucky said. He went to tip his glass up, then realised he'd finished his drink. "Shit."

"Do you want another?" Steve offered, halfway to getting up.

Bucky shook his head. "No, I should probably stay sober," he said with a wry smile. "I hope I'm not being an asshole about this, Steve. I'm just trying to get it right in my head."

"You're not being an asshole," Steve assured him, leaning in. "I mean... I hope it's not too forward, but I would like to date you, Bucky. I enjoy spending time with you."

"That's sweet." Bucky raised his hands and waved them in front of his eyes. "Oh, shit, I'm gonna cry."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm an emotional lady," he laughed, and Steve laughed too.

"Would you like to go on another date?" Steve asked. "We can get dinner or something? Or go somewhere? And, I guess, see how it goes?"

Bucky nodded fast. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Steve felt relieved and exhilarated at once. "I'd like that too." He glanced over at the dance floor, with the slow dancing couples. "Would you dance with me?"

Bucky looked at him in surprise, and Steve held out his hand. Bucky took it, and grinned at him. "Like I'd say no."

They got up and went to the dance floor. Steve wasn't great at dancing by any means, but he stood tall and got in the leading position. Bucky stepped into his arms and put one hand on Steve's shoulder, and floundered over where to put his other hand.

"Just here," Steve told him, indicating where Bucky's hand needed to go.

"Right," Bucky said, shaking his head at himself. "I haven't been in this position before."

Steve smiled down at him. "Wanna switch out?"

"No, no," Bucky said. "I'm fine, this is nice. You're enormous, but this is nice."

They swayed side to side, the music slow and romantic. Steve felt so happy he could burst, and he smiled at Bucky as he gazed into his eyes.

"What's your favourite meal?" Bucky asked him.

"I'm pretty simple," Steve said, "I'm a meat and two veg guy."

Bucky threw his head back to laugh. "God, Steve. So, what? Steak and veg?"

"Sure," Steve said.

"Can I cook for you?" Bucky asked. "I'm not Gordon Ramsay in the kitchen, but I can do meat and veg okay."

Steve didn't know who Gordon Ramsay was, but that sounded fine to him. "I'd love that. Home cooked meals are the best."

"I'll try get rid of my mom, and her cat," Bucky said, "but fair warning, she may want to join."

"I don't mind that," Steve told him, twirling Bucky around the floor. "I like your mom. I haven't met the cat though."

"You'll need to guard your food," Bucky warned. "He's a menace."

"I'm sure I can manage," Steve replied.

"Hah," Bucky said, smiling. "That's what they all say."

 

 

 

~~

 

 

 

The following week, Bucky invited Steve over on Sunday night for dinner.

Steve dressed nice, and brought flowers for them both. He'd also brought a catnip toy for the cat, who didn't even wake up when Winnie tried to tempt him with it.

Steve liked that cat.

They sat Steve in the lounge while the meal was cooked. Bucky was head chef, with Winnie was assisting him occasionally in the kitchen. She was thrilled to meet Steve and chat with him, it seemed.

Steve felt very welcome in their home, and was treated to some photo albums of Winnie's family, including Bucky's famous Hollywood uncle. There was lots of photos of Bucky too, when he'd first started performing in school plays as a kid, then dressing in drag as a teenager.

Bucky yelled from the kitchen to stop showing embarrassing pictures of him.

They sat down to eat together, and Bucky presented Steve with two enormous plates: one boasting perfectly cooked steaks, and the other piled high with glazed slices of potato, green beans and some other vegetables Steve could only guess at.

There was an array of condiments Steve had never tried either, and Winnie helped explain which ones they were so he could test them.

It was a wonderful meal, even when Chester the cat jumped onto the table and tried to lick Steve's steak. Winnie shooed him off with a napkin, but Chester only hid under the table and lurked with intent.

Steve thought it was pretty funny.

After dinner he helped Bucky clear away the plates and they did the dishes together in the kitchen.

Winnie bid them goodnight and went to the lounge, Chester hot on her heels.

When the dishes were done and the leftovers packed away into the refrigerator where Chester couldn't attack them, Bucky produced a cake tin.

"Did you bake a cake too?" Steve asked.

"No, I can't bake for love nor money," Bucky laughed, "one of my sisters made this. You can meet her another time."

"I love cake," Steve said, as Bucky served up thick slices. "Wait, are you having some too?"

"Just this once." Bucky winked at him. "Besides, she said she used an all natural sweetener instead of sugar."

"Oh, I see." Steve dug his fork in to taste it. Bucky tried some too, although his expression said he didn't seem that impressed with the flavour.

Steve had to laugh. "I have an idea," he said, setting the cake down. "Why don't we take a walk and find a bodega that sells cake. Then you'll have done the exercise of walking there so it cancels out the calories."

Bucky snorted a laugh. "I don't think it works like that for us mere mortals, Steve, but alright. You twisted my arm."

They put on their coats as Bucky called goodbye to Winnie, and stepped out into the crisp evening air together.

Steve offered his hand out, and was thrilled when Bucky took it. They walked side by side along the quiet street, stealing glances at each other and smiling.

"Thank you for dinner, Bucky," Steve said. "It was wonderful."

"You're welcome," Bucky replied. "I'm surprised you can move with all that steak inside you."

Steve laughed. "It was just the right amount. Well done on judging that."

"I'm a genius," Bucky quipped, leaning into Steve's side. "Let's go find a cake."

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, I finally finished!
> 
> I thought I'll do a little epilogue. Hands up who wants an epilogue?


	12. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your lovely comments! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this little epilogue <3
> 
> ~~

 

 

 

"So, mom's gonna call you tomorrow," Bucky said, holding his arms out so Steve could wrap the fabric around him.

Steve paused what he was doing, down on one knee and looking up at Bucky. "Oh?"

"Oh, you know, about Becca coming to clean for you?" Bucky said. "Sorry, I meant to lead with that. Duh."

"Oh, right." Steve smiled sweetly. "Sure thing."

"Not that I didn't want to clean for you anymore," Bucky said hastily, as Steve pinned the fabric round his waist. "Just, well, mom said it might be weird."

"It was a little weird," Steve said, smiling wryly. "I did tell her I was okay for this week."

"Yeah." Bucky glanced around the spotless apartment. "But you don't have time to clean, be a superhero, _and_ be my seamstress, Steve."

Steve laughed at that. "And what about dating? Does that fit in anywhere?"

"Well." Bucky blushed. "Obviously, that fits in. Seamstress slash boyfriend."

Steve simply smiled, and carried on pinning the skirt. "I'm happy with this part," he said. "I did have an idea about the bodice part though."

"Oh, did you now," Bucky sing-songed.

"You know in the movie," Steve said, nonplussed. "When she comes out from the curtain and it's all..." He gestured in front of his chest.

"Boobs first?" Bucky guessed.

"Yeah. So, I figured, your breastplate?" Steve said. "Do they come in bigger sizes?"

"They do," Bucky replied, "but they ain't cheap."

"What if I got them for you?" Steve asked. "Like a gift? Is that okay?"

"You wanna buy me some _boobs?_ " Bucky waved his hands in front of his eyes. "Ugh! Down on one knee and everything. I'm feeling emotional."

Steve laughed, staying in his crouched position. "I mean, it'd be fun for the act, right? If they were enormous?"

"It would," Bucky agreed, getting a hold of himself. "Okay, never mind that for now. Go sit on a chair and I'll practise!"

He shimmied away in the skirt and his high heels to the other side of the room. Steve, obedient dear that he was, went and sat on a chair and waited. Bucky got in position and called, "Ready!"

Steve picked up the TV remote and pressed play, where the movie was paused from earlier. The Jessica Rabbit number began, and Bucky started his walk through. He wasn't in drag, just a t-shirt on top. This was only to see how the skirt was to move in.

He mimed along to the words, picturing the stage at his favorite club and trying to envision it in Steve's lounge. "Why don't you do right," he murmured along with the song, watching where he was treading. "Okay so the end of the stage is here." Bucky gestured vaguely. "I'll wander around here a bit then come down the steps to you."

"Alright." Steve sat patiently, watching him with a smile.

And Bucky may have hurried up a little just to get to Steve faster. "So, down the steps..." Bucky was about to mime the action when Steve stood up and offered his hand out.

"Oh!" Bucky exclaimed. "How kind. But you can't do that and then be sat down at the same time, Steve."

"You could go mess with someone else in the audience first, while I sit back down," Steve suggested.

"Hm." Bucky thought about that. "Yeah, alright. That works. See how helpful your strategic mind is? Who'd have known."

Steve grinned, and sat back in his chair.

"Get outta here," Bucky sang, not caring if he butchered the song with his terrible singing voice. He quickly went through some mimes of interacting with an audience member, trying to catch up to the right part. "Oh, shit, we shoulda got a table," he said, ready to mime leaning over Steve's imaginary table. "Why don't you do right!"

"Why don't you just sit on my knee?" Steve offered.

"I can't just sit down!" Bucky laughed. "They pay to see a show."

"Okay..." Steve pondered for a moment, then said, "You can sit on me, then I'll carry you away?"

"But I'm heavy?" Bucky tried. Steve gestured at himself, and Bucky waved his hand. "Right, right. I forgot. Super strength. Alright, but don't give yourself a hernia."

Steve laughed and patted his knee. "I'll be fine."

Bucky cleared his throat and got back into character. "Okay," he murmured, then sashayed over to Steve daintily and bent down to place one hand on his shoulder for balance. Bucky blew a kiss with his other hand. "I dunno what I'm doing," he said, "I'm just flirting here. Let the audience think I'm teasing you."

"Good idea." Steve smiled. "Are you sitting down too?"

"Yes. Brace yourself." Bucky spun round and dropped his ass onto Steve's lap. Steve didn't even flinch, and Bucky searched his face for any signs of discomfort as he held onto Steve's shoulder. "Alright?"

"Light as a feather," Steve told him.

Bucky threw his head back and laughed, then screamed as Steve hoisted him up easily. Bucky clung on for dear life, then relaxed when he felt secure in Steve's arms. Steve was steady on his feet and began walking across the room with him. "Oh, you are strong!" Bucky cooed, kicking his feet. "My hero!"

Steve smiled happily, and turned around to walk back to the chair. "Wanna try one more time?"

"No, let's just keep walking round the room." Bucky directed with a wave of his hand. "This is sort of like exercising."

"To quote your own words back at you," Steve sassed him, "I don't think it works that way."

"Not according to my FitBit," Bucky retorted. "Now do another lap."

 

 

 

They practised the act at Steve's place enough that Bucky wanted to try a dress rehearsal down at the club before opening.

They were given the stage, the club's sound system, and the place almost to themselves for a half hour. Bobby, Wade and Domino had come to watch and offer critique.

Bucky's dress looked amazing, his new boobs looked amazing, and Steve was sat in place where the audience would be. It all went well onstage as Bucky lip synced the song, then when Bucky tried to walk down the steps he ended up tripping over his own feet because he was a klutz.

But Steve caught him, and sassed him about just wanting to get back into his arms.

Wade cut the music and called out, "Maybe try again and with less falling over this time?"

Steve carried Bucky back to the stage and set him down carefully. "You got this, Buck," he said.

"I do, I do," Bucky said, breathing out. "I'm not usually this clumsy."

"Lies!" Bobby called out.

Bucky ignored him and went through the routine again. This time he walked down the steps without any mishaps, holding Steve's hand, and into the imaginary audience to interact.

When he got around to Steve, Bucky flirted with him and sat in his lap. Steve lifted him up at the end of the song and twirled them around so Bucky could wave his arm at the audience like Satine in Moulin Rouge. "Come and get me, boys!" he called out.

Wade and the others applauded. "Outstanding!" he praised. "Tell Steve he's hired."

"You heard mama Wade," Bucky told Steve, hands on his strong shoulders as Steve held him. "You gotta come work with me now."

Steve grinned back at him. "Sounds great. I'm in."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I am on [tumblr](http://jro616.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/jro616).


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